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sourcherryandsprinkles · 5 months

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Coriolanus x commander's daughter!! I've never seen anyone writing this but that would be so hot and forbidden

Request: Getting manhandled by peacekeeper!Coryo or getting fucked while he's in uniform or both YES PLEASE

Note: Birthdays should be spent doing the things you like...so I finished this one today. Enjoy!!

Warnings: 18+, uniform kink, semi-public fingering + oral (f receiving), forbidden relationship,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Coriolanus Snow made a lot of stupid choices in his eighteen years of living, but having an affair with his commander’s daughter took the cake. The clandestine romance was risky and could, at extreme extent, get him executed for inappropriate conduct, but the fire that surged through your whole body every time you were together was addicting.

The first time you saw him, you were searching around for your father, having a message to deliver to him in person from the head commander. You kept your head high and stayed on your guard as you walked through the heap of peacekeepers in training, not wanting to look like a lost puppy among them.

You could usually find your way around the base, but today was scorching hot, so you decided to look for someone who would be kind enough to help you get to him.

A row of younger soldiers caught your eye. They were doing push-ups in their singlets, beads of sweat dripping down the side of their faces. As you were trying to pick which shaved head you were going to ask help from, one of them stood out near the end of the line.

Walking up to him, you couldn't help but silently admire the way his arms would flex as he continued the push-ups. Damn. Your stomach clenched at the sight.

‘’Excuse me?’’ You cleared your throat and he looked up, surprising you with the prettiest pair of blue eyes. ‘’Could you help me find Commander Hoff? I have something to deliver to him from the head Commander.’’

The blond cocked an eyebrow, uncertain if he should be helping you. It was his first time seeing you on the base. ‘’And you are to him..?” he prompted, staring you down as his mind embarked a sinful roller-coaster of thoughts.

‘’His daughter.’’

Although well aware of the dangers, Coriolanus couldn’t stop seeing you. And neither could you. You were addicted to his mouth and the way he could lift you up with ease and fuck you while standing, how his toned chest felt under your palms and attractive he looked in his blue uniform.

After you bid your parents goodnight, you changed out of your day clothes and ventured to where you knew all peacekeepers spent their nights at. You didn’t know for sure that Coriolanus was at the Hob, but the barracks were all empty and he didn't have many friends in District 12 besides Sejanus, so it seemed likely he would be there.

It didn’t take long for him to notice you in the bar, your dress brighter in color and certainly shorter than the locals. Your eyes met across the room for a brief moment, then you disappeared through the backrooms, confident that Coriolanus would follow suit.

You could hear his boots on the floors, slowly catching up to you. Your heart quickened its pace behind your chest, excitement building.

It wasn’t until you made it outside that he called you out. ‘’What are you doing here, Miss. Hoff?’’ he asked, his voice echoing in the dark alley.

Your feet came to a stop.

Coriolanus stepped forward, slowly closing the distance between you. ‘’The Commander wouldn’t want his darling daughter in a place like this.’’ Your back was now pressed against his front, an agreeable warmth in contrast to the night air. Coriolanus’s mouth moved to your ear. ‘’A place full of men who would like nothing more than dipping it in your tight cunt.’’

His words should have disgusted you, but they were speaking the truth. These men inside were drinking more than they should and no one was really stepping up for the women they were harassing. With the skirt of your dress hitting above your knee, some could associate it as provocative or inviting.

You turned to face him, biting your bottom lip when you noticed his uniform button up partially undone, revealing a glimpse of his white undershirt.

‘’I shall accompany you back to the base.’’ Coriolanus grabbed you by the arm, but you protested.

He was much stronger than you, so he easily grabbed both of your wrists with a hard squeeze and pinned you against the closest brick wall. You gasped, then quickly realized what game he was playing and you’d be damned if you didn’t play along.

‘’Are you going to arrest me, Mr. Peacekeeper?’’

Coriolanus’s grip on your wrists tightened, a stern command following. ‘’No talking.’’

You could feel your own wetness starting to pool between your legs, aroused by the unfolding situation. The game. The play of power.

His other hand moved from your waist to your hip, slipping underneath the fabric of your dress. He went over the curve of your ass before venturing between your legs to rub you over your panties, but he was met with a surprise. Coriolanus cocked an eyebrow. ‘’No panties tonight?’’

‘’I was hoping to run into you.’’

‘’Naughty girl.’’ His fingers started moving over your folds, coaxing a needy moan from you.

Your jaw dropped as he pushed two long fingers in, making you clench around them. Coriolanus did a scissor motion, then curled them inside, eliciting another moan. ‘’Fuck me.’’

Coriolanus shook his head. ‘’Sorry, darling. I don’t take any commands from civils.’’

‘’Please.’’

You could feel his smug smile behind your neck as the words left your tongue. ‘’What would your daddy say if he knew what his little girl was begging me to do to her?’’ Coriolanus pushed his fingers deeper, making you mewl, so needy for him.

He withdrew his fingers, letting you assume he was going to unbuckle his pants and finally take you, but Coriolanus turned you around and sank to his knees in front of you. The dirt on the ground will dirty his uniform, but he didn’t seem to care. Coriolanus looked up at you, then hooked your leg over his shoulder, leaning forward to kiss the inside of your knee.

You slipped a groan of approval when his mouth got closer to where you wanted him. Then, his tongue ran between your folds, circling your clit slowly. A loud, desperate moan echoed around the dark alley. Coriolanus pinched your thigh, a silent reminder to be quiet. He loved when you were loud, but the Hob was full of peacekeepers. If anyone were to see you together, Coriolanus would be in trouble.

His huge hands sank into your ass, squeezing at the same time he sucked your clit into his mouth. You reached to grab onto something, to keep you from being so loud, but found nothing other than Coriolanus’s buzzed head.

‘’Coryo…’’ you whimpered.

In the matter of minutes, he had turned you into a whimpering mess. Back arching away from the wall, eyes rolling to the back of your head.

One of his hands moved from my ass, and when you looked down, a pair of blue eyes was staring back at you. They stay burning into you, watching you closely as two of his fingers slide into you, finding that one perfect spot in less time than you need to say his name.

His pace increased as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, perfectly coordinated with his tongue. If the wall wasn’t holding you up, you would have toppled over by now. The feeling kept building, the heel of your shoe digging into the hard muscles of his back as you desperately tried to move your hips to ride his fingers.

You were wound so impossibly tight you couldn’t breathe. ‘’Coryo, I’m going to cu—’’

You didn’t even get the words out as every part of you spasmed, everything tingling and throbbing as you tightened around him. Below you, Coriolanus moaned, the taste of you welcomed on his tongue.

When he removed his fingers and mouth, he leaned back so he could look up at you properly. He grinned like a devil, his lips glistening with your juices as he sucked his fingers into his mouth.

—

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @marzipaanz @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @Heartsforneteyamsully @aerangi @hallecarey1 @bxbyyyjocelyn @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @grxnde-dwt @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @teeeree13 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis@Shasta89 @sierraluvz @specialk6802 @CZARINERA @katherinejess @cookielovesbooks-akie

Hunger games / BOASAS taglist: @crossyourmindrights @ziggyneedsabreak @folkloreshorts @runningfrom2am @soulessien @itzfckingreal @creedsofapollo @heart-helmet @javden @definitelykyles @pumkinnroses @pepperonipastas @arzua10 @upwritingallnight @cruzgrecia @evelestrange @caitlin222 @mingukkieposts @lucygreene @mimirocha @sunnysunny133696 @10ava01 @aesthetixhoe @moonquarrel @mus_tbe_a_weasley @under-seasoned-pasta @nowitsmissing

#coriolanus snow imagine #coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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marble-anime · 1 year

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Sabotage

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Summary: After finding out about your parents' plan to set you up in an arranged marriage, you ask the King of Curses to give you a baby in an attempt to sabotage their plan.

Disclaimer: Minors DNI

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, true form sukuna, smut, monster fucking, double cocks, oral(fem + male receiving), double penetration, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 2.5k

You were one of the fortunate souls that had managed to cross paths with the King of Curses and make it out unscathed. You’d been sent out to gather water for your family and you stumbled across him rinsing off the blood that caked his monstrous body. He noticed you before you had the chance to run so you bowed down and begged him to spare you out of fear. You were met with his husky laugh and ordered to ‘scram’.

You ran as fast as your feet would carry you. When you explained what happened to your parents you were chastised for possibly leading the curse to your home. If he did know where you resided, he never bothered the village. But you had come in contact with him multiple times after that. Whether it was from pure coincidence or his own curiosity, it felt as though you saw him every time your family sent you beyond the village.

When you first met you’d reacted out of terror but the more you interacted with him the less afraid you were. You slowly learned how to navigate your conversations. You’d greet him with a bow and answer anything he asked about you, smiling politely and nodding at whatever he said and eventually he’d let you go. Although your fear was diminishing you still didn’t know what to make of him. After all, with his size and strength, he could easily tear you apart with those four arms.

But this time was different, you were the one seeking him out. You’d overheard your parents conspiring behind your back. They planned to send you off for an arranged marriage to improve their financial status. You pleaded with them to call it off but you were reprimanded for being ‘selfish’. For putting your wants before the status of your family. You hope they’ll understand why you're about to do this, they really left you no choice.

During your conversations with the fearsome King of Curses, you picked up on his sly comments about how your submissiveness would make for a good mistress. You weren't able to show it but you were secretly offended at the time. However, now his possible sexual interest in you could be your saving grace.

It wasn’t hard to find him. All you had to do was follow the trail of massacred villages and frightened whispers of his name. You soon found yourself at a rugged temple littered with bones. You made your way through the temple and deep inside was Ryomen Sukuna himself sitting on his throne, four crimson eyes staring you down.

“What do we have here?” he asked, a hint of interest in his smug voice. Clearly surprised by your presence. “Are you lost, little lamb?”

You shook your head, trying not to let him intimidate you even though one wrong move could leave you dead in an instant. “My parents are planning an arranged marriage that I have no intention of going through with.”

“Oh,” you intrigued him. Were you hoping he’d kill your husband-to-be? Or perhaps your parents? In that case, he might as well kill your whole village. Surely you weren’t naive enough to think that the King of Curses would give them a stern talking to all because you shared a few pleasant conversations. His decision to let you live didn’t make you friends in the slightest. “And what would you like me to do about it?”

He hadn’t anticipated your answer, “I want a baby.”

“A baby?” A certain darkness was swimming through his eyes as he observed you. His face was akin to a predator stalking its prey.

“Preferably a cursed one,” you replied, challenging his hungry gaze with your nonchalant one, “If dishonoring my family by giving birth to a monster is what it takes to get me out of this marriage then I’ll do it.”

He seemed to be contemplating your words for a moment before he ordered, “Get up here.”

You walked up the stairs of his throne, stopping on the last step. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. You were startled by the feeling of four large hands groping your body. Now with your face inches away from his, the doubt was starting to set in. You knew his body was huge but feeling it against yours, how tiny you were compared to him, really put into perspective just how massive he was. A vision of your mangled body caged in his four arms entered your mind.

“Our previous conversations led me to believe you were at least somewhat intelligent,” he said, as if being able to sense your doubts, “Perhaps I gave you far too much credit. Was becoming my concubine really the best solution you could come up with?” He held you close, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “I could kill you where you stand.”

“I can be whatever you want me to be.” His hot breath fanning against your face made you feel like a gazelle about to be devoured by a lion. “An innocent virgin or a slutty concubine.” He pulled you into a hungry kiss, silencing any doubt you had. His lips were rough in contrast to your soft ones. His teeth grazed your bottom lip. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your body heating up. He pulled away, leaving you wanting more. “Keep talking like that.”

“I can pretend to fight back if that's what you like. Act like I regret my decision and that I’m disgusted with myself for fucking a curse.” Being known for the massacre of hundreds of villages, murdering anyone who came across his path. You wouldn’t put it past him to bend the concept of consent. “Or I can act like it’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced.”

He slid a hand into your kimono, kneading your breast. You gasped when you felt a tongue flick your nipple. “Go on,” he said as if the teeth on his palm weren't gently tugging on your sensitive bud.

“I could serve you, do anything to please my master Sukuna.” You moaned as two of his hands gripped your waist, rocking you against him. You pressed soft kisses to his chest. “Or I could be selfish, all I really need is your seed in my womb.”

He grabbed your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “I want you to play the desperate, devoted, virgin. You understand?”

“Yes, master Sukuna.” He released you and you pushed yourself off his lap, sinking to your knees in between his thighs. You pulled his robe down just enough for his cocks to spring free. You stared at them in shock, you supposed that it would make sense for a curse with an extra set of arms to have double cocks. Sukuna noticed you frown in disappointment upon seeing what he kept in his pants. Anger seared through his veins at your reaction. “What the hell is that face for?!”

“There’s no way these are gonna fit,” you whined, they were at least 10 inches each and very girthy. They were massive, definitely inhuman.

Oh, his anger was replaced by amusement as he smirked at your pouty face. “Any size can fit if you're persistent.” He cradled your cheek in his palm and teased, “Unless you're not really serious about getting out of that marriage.”

You knew he was partly joking but his words still brought you some ease. You grasped each of his cocks, pondering how you should go about this. Experimentally, you wrapped your lips around one of them. Stuffing as much of it as you could into your mouth, all you could fit was the tip. You tried swirling your tongue and bobbing your head but it was hard to suck a dick when your lips couldn’t even make it to the shaft.

You heard Sukuna’s arrogant voice above you ask, “Need some help?” before a hand gripped your hair and shoved your head as far down his cock as it would go. Which still wasn’t much. You gagged on his cock, jaw being forced open to the point where it hurt. When you felt the pressure of his hand disappear, you bobbed your head a few more times before you released his girth with a wet pop.

“What are you doing?” he asked, under the impression that you were tapping out after only a minute.

“I have to suck the other one too, don’t I, master?” You tilted your head to work your mouth along his lower cock. Sukuna groaned at the sight of you struggling to suck one of his dicks while the other rubbed against your cheek. Not having much luck, you decided this wasn’t gonna work. You were gonna have to get creative.

You used your hands to fondle his heavy balls and pump one of his cocks, licking a long strip up the other. You alternated your hands and mouth around his sex. Sucking, licking, and stroking wherever you could, doing your best not to leave a part of him unattended.

“Interesting technique you’ve got there.” As entertained as he was, he couldn’t deny that what you were doing was working. Making up for your inability to fit his fat cock in your mouth by stimulating both of them at the same time. You kissed the base of his cock and replied, “If you’ve got a better idea I’d love to hear it,” before letting go of his balls so you could slip one into your mouth, gently sucking while your hand replaced where your mouth had previously been.

“Nah, I’d rather get to fucking your sweet cunt.” Drool seeped from his tummy mouth, drenching both his cocks and the lower half of your face in saliva. You stripped out of your kimono and straddled his lap. His four arms lifted you up, the tips of his cocks prodding at both of your holes as he warned, “It’s gonna hurt.”

“I know. I’m ready.” You ate your words when he let go, impaling you on his cocks. The mass amount of saliva helped them slide inside you with ease but it did nothing to cease the searing pain you felt at the intrusion. You dug your nails into his arms for support. If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn he’d punctured a lung with the way you gasped for air. Suddenly remembering your role, you asked breathlessly, “Does it feel good, master Sukuna?”

He reveled in the feeling of splitting you open, your gummy walls squeezing him for dear life. “Feels like a tight virgin ready to be bred by her master.”

All you could do was nod mindlessly as the tongue from his tummy mouth reached between you two, lapping at your clit. Your pussy and thighs were coated in spit. His tongue and cocks left you a moaning mess. You attempted to ride him but your shaking legs couldn’t even lift you halfway up his cocks.

His hands grabbed at you again, helping bounce on his cocks. White hot pleasure consumed your body as his tip banged against your cervix. In your fucked out mind, you wondered why this was considered so wrong. It felt so good. No mere human could ever hold a candle to this. You threw your head back, choking out sobs and slurring your words, “Feels so good, master ‘Kuna.”

Sukuna watched your stomach bulge each time your hips met his with lust-filled eyes. Your cries bounced off the walls of his temple followed by a creamy squelching sound indicating your orgasm. He didn’t let up, continuing to tongue your clit and fuck you up and down his cock like a toy. “How bad do you need your master's cum?”

“So bad!” you sobbed, “Need it so fucking bad! Please, master!”

He growled, lifting your body and pounding into you drawing silenced moans from your throat. You felt your second high crash over you like a tidal wave. Falling limp against his chest, you let him use you like a rag doll. You heard animalistic grunts and groans above you as he continued to brutally thrust into you. He slammed you down on his cocks one last time, filling your holes with his warm cum.

You felt him lift your body as he watched his seed drip down his cocks. Springing back to life, you pushed his hands away, forcing yourself back down. “No! You’re gonna get it everywhere.” It was already too late. His sperm was leaking everywhere. “Oh fuck. Okay, let's do it again and make sure it takes.”

Sukuna was surprised by your willingness to go again. Especially considering you just practically collapsed against him. Nonetheless, he could still go a few more rounds. “Fine. But this time you’ll play the stubborn, bratty, concubine.”

Your eyes darkened, digging your nails into him you spat, “Just fuck a baby into me already, curse.”

Three months after your little escapade with the King of Curses, Sukuna sent Uraume to fetch you. He was growing more curious with each passing day. When his servant finally brought you to him he asked if your plan worked. You shrugged and grabbed his large hand, bringing it to feel your swollen belly hidden under your kimono as you said, “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Leading up to the baby's birth, you would spend multiple days a week at Sukuna’s temple. Uraume would make you the finest food and Sukuna would tend to your needs, both sexual and otherwise.

When the baby was finally born you had a beautiful boy. His features mostly took after you. Well, except for the four arms he was gifted from his father. Your parents were horrified but you couldn’t have loved your baby boy more. He was perfect in your eyes.

After you’d given birth, you weren’t around Sukuna as much. But he’d still call you to him every once and a while. He didn’t say much, just watched you tend to your shared child with the utmost care. When your son saw his father for the first time he visibly brightened. You figured since he was always surrounded by humans, it was probably nice for him to see a being that looked like him.

What you didn’t know was that Sukuna paid a little visit to your village while you were at the market. He’d threatened your parents to force you into another arranged marriage. Surely, you’d come crawling back to him and you’d bear his second child. Being the mother of two cursed children, you’d simply have no choice but to be his wife.

He’d been out late getting rid of those pesky jujutsu sorcerers and when he arrived at his temple he was greeted with the sight of Uraume cradling his sleeping son. They informed him that you were waiting for him in his chamber. He knew his plan was falling into place when he opened the door to find you on his bed, kimono pooled at your waist to reveal your breasts as you spoke in a sultry voice, “Let’s have another baby.”

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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intersectionalpraxis · 7 days

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Someone made an extensive google spreadsheet I've attached below (bless their hearts my gosh) -also don't forget to block Charlie Puth too and any other artist or actor you can think of. 'Influencers' are also NOT excluded from this. If I find a list with them I will post it but this includes every single one of them with a platform who have been silent. That includes the "let them eat cake" Haley Baylee who gushed about having 10 million followers after attending the Met Gala -all while Rafah was being bombed.

Also, on contrary to what was said above -I'm well past the point of caring about the feelings of celebrities and influencers. They should be publicly shamed because their priorities and moral compasses are broken -clearly. The ones who have spoken up, especially over the past 9 months, are the one's who deserve to be supported.

Also, I'd like this blockout to continue. This isn't something that happens for a week and then goes away if 'they do talk,' (Lizzo is the most recent example I can give when she said celebrities have no power then pulled a Rock and Oprah moment by asking her fans to help send funds to someone in Gaza instead of donating herself which she could very well have done -major side eye).

I also recently posted about another strategy -cart abandonment you can view here:

We have the power folks, and if you haven't already done so please mass block them on all platforms. I already started doing more the other night and will commence.

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cashmoneyyysstuff · 28 days

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in which : you and your classmates surprise katsuki for his birthday !

day seven of the explosive birthday collab event hosted by @queenpiranhadon !

fem reader, i dog on kaminari a lot in this one lmfao sorry kami fans i promise i luv him, kissing, lotsaaaa fluff, mentions of food, mentions of drinking but its not specified to be alcohol or anything ! cuddling, teary eyed sentimental katsu, soft katsu for the soul, teary eyed reader, class A bein silly, lmk if i missed sum else !

a/n : HAPPY BIRTHDAY KATSUKI KATSUKI DAY GRAAAAAHHH-

and so, finally bakugou’s big 18th birthday party had arrived.

and you could absolutely not be more nervous.

you’d barely slept a wink, too giddy but also terrified as you kept on thinking about everything that could happen that you lost track of time. you'd checked and rechecked to see if the gifts you'd prepared where ready, checked with your classmates to see if all the decorations in gym gamma where still okay and checked the fridge five times to see if the cake was still intact aka if kaminari or mineta hadn't gotten their grubby little hands on it. tokoyami had told you not to “let the chains of anxiety shackle thy restless soul”, which you think meant you didn’t need worry yourself too much. you didn't quite get it at the time but you were thankful nonetheless.

you’re in bed now. nervous, sure. but you can’t help excitedly kicking your feet nonetheless. you were so excited to see katsuki’s reaction to the surprise and to your gifts, of course.

you check your notifications one last time, smile at your homescreen picture of you and your boyfriend, and turn on your side to finally go to sleep.

the day goes by with no hiccups. despite your friends wishing katsuki a happy birthday, with him grumbling in a sort of appreciation, he didn’t seem like he’d caught on. and he hadn’t noticed the sneaky mischievous glances you sent your friends every once in a while, everything was going off with a hitch.

you’d, of course, waken up extra early to be sure you were the very first person to send him a happy birthday message, getting ready at lightning speed to greet him at the door with a warm hug and plenty of kisses. which he reciprocated after quickly getting over his stupor.

the day had gone well, but now it was time for the surprise. and while you gather up the last finishing touches and finish bringing the food, operation : extract the payload was a go.

kirishima had been tasked to go retrieve katsuki and drag him over to the gym, claiming he wanted to try a brand new move and knowing katsuki you knew there was little to no chance he’d pass up training. but just in case, you’d encouraged kirishima to egg your boyfriend on a bit, that usually gets him going and you smirk proudly at your phone when you get a text from the red head himself.

“he took the bait ! the payload is on the way >:)”

and there you have it.

“alright guys, payload’s on the way !” you exclaim. your classmates start taking action, there aren’t many places to hide in the gym even with all of the changes you’d all made, but everyone had managed to find a pretty good hiding spot. some, like kaminari following others because they had nowhere else to hide and exchanging whispered complaints of “why’d you follow me ?!” and “ow, don’t step on my feet !” you giggle at how much your friends treat this like a game of hide and seek rather than a big surprise, before bounding away to find a hiding spot for yourself near the entrance.

it's so quiet you can hear a pin drop. denki clear his throat and yelps immediately afterwards, you assume someone must’ve punished him for the noise and you almost snort. until you hear voices approaching.

you recognize the loudest one clear as day. your heart starts racing when you hear the door open and kirishima and katsuki sounding impossibly close. katsuki’s complaining, as usual and it should be about time for—

“let’s hurry this up shitty hair, got other shit to do later.” you hear your boyfriend grumble.

“yeah, yeah i got it man.” kirishima replies “i’ve been working on this move for a looong while, so i think you’ll definitely be in for a treat.”

the trigger word.

“why’d you put so much emphasis on the—“

“SURPRIIIIISEEEE!!!”

bakugou’s next words get caught in his throat and he makes a little spluttering noise when all of his classmates pop out from almost every single crevice, nook and cranny in the room. his eyes are wide as saucers and his stance screams he’s on high alert, ready to fight, only to be met with his entire class screaming at him.

he stays frozen in his spot, eyebrows twitching and you all silently wait for him to react until denki shouts “kacchan’s shut down, guys !” in an instant time restarts its course and while you all burst out laughing katsuki splutters again.

“shut the fuck up dunce face !!” he shouts, but it doesn’t hit the same as it usually would, he’s just a bit quieter “w-what the hell is all this ?!”

“obviously it’s a surprise party.” sero sasses with a smirk, mina rubs it in by adding a snarky “duuuh !”

kirishima takes pity on his friend and places a hand on his shoulder comfortingly "we knew your birthday was comin' up, so we wanted to throw you a birthday party !"

"and actually keep it a secret this time.." kaminari snickered not so quietly. him, and the majority of the class side eyeing todoroki and mineta, the smaller boy immediately spluttering out excuses while the other only tilted his head in question.

katsuki's flabbergasted expression has settled just the smallest bit, his eyes shoot over to you and you offer him a sweet smile "18th birthday's are special, y'know ? they should be celebrated with class." you joke. the redhead next to your boyfriend nods aggressively fast. you feel a hand on your shoulder and turn to see kaminari again. you snort when he opens his mouth to speak again—does that guy ever stop talking ?

"i helped plan everything." he smirks, leaning against your shoulder and nodding proudly. only to wince when jirou materializes behind him, accompanied with a fist to his head. "we all did, idiot."

"hey, don't go taking all the glory for yourself !" mina chimes in a little further in the crowd, shoji places a hand on her shoulder in support.

you can't stop your lips from forming into a silly smile at your friends antics, and you giggle when katsuki only rolls his eyes, trying to hold back one of his own.

"you guys are idiots..complete fuckin' morons.." he mutters under his breath, shaking his head and rubbing at his nape almost shyly. he looks up at the red head next to him, then at the rest of his class with the faintest of pink on his cheeks, hand still pressed awkwardly on his nape like he doesn't know where to put it.

"i-i appreciate you guys..or whatever..thanks."

a beat passes. and then squeals resonates throughout the room.

"AAAWWWW—" kaminari and mina both squeal.

"aww man, you're blushing !" kirishima laughs, his cheeks also tinted pink.

"S-SHUT THE FUCK UP. NO I'M NOT—yer seein' things, you fuckin' weirdo.." katsuki spits, but his embarrassment and appreciation refrains him from insulting his smiling friend too agressively.

"aaand he's back.." sero quips, causing absolute choas filled with laughs and screams..the screams coming more from your boyfriend but you digress.

you're all smiles, this couldn't have gone any better for you and you feel a little silly for feeling emotional. katsuki's absolutely not the first person others would call sweet, but him actually putting in the effort and putting his feelings into words make your heart grow more than three sizes.

"alright, enough with the mushy stuff. let's party an' eat cake !" kaminari, always being the life of the party, exclaims. you're thankful that he's so aware and always able to set everything back on course so naturally, you almost envy him for it. you and your classmates excitedly cheer. between the cheers you lock eyes with katsuki, who was already looking at you. you smile at him brightly because you really can't help it and you feel your heart beat and dance around in your chest when he offers you a handsome smile in return. not his usual boastful one, the one only reserved for you. the one that makes your heart beat intensely, but more sweetly and makes it melt like liquid honey.

this is the best.

you're a few hours ( and a lot of slices of cake) later into the evening, when you lean against the wall to take a breather. you're cheeks hurt with how hard you've been laughing and you sigh happily, the noise being drowned out by the loud speakers booming as you take a sip of your favorite drink.

"yo." you turn to see sero right next to you, "hey !" you chirp loudly, trying to get him to hear you over the music. he smiles easily at you, taking a sip from his drink before he continues

"looks like blasty's havin' fun." he chuckled, pointing his cup to where your boyfriend had been dragged into an impromptu conga line. you burst out laughing, pulling out your phone to record. and while you're recording he notices and glares right at you, you offer him a taunting little wave and cheer him on. and his narrowed eyes need no words as his hands tighten on deku's shoulders in front of him. the green haired boy's eyes widen in surprise as his mouth open in surprise.

"you're gonna pay for that." you chortle.

"looks like this party was a succes, huh ?" sero utters softly, going to take another sip before leaning his red cup over to you. you laugh with a shake of your head.

"yep !" you agree, knocking your cup against his.

a warm hand wraps around your wrist. you don't know if you ever stopped smiling since the beginning of the evening, but you smile wider when his warmth practically engulfes you, his chest pressed to your back as he pulls you against it. you look up at him to see him trying to supress a smile, not well, but he's trying. "finally caught you." katsuki growls.

"you havin' fun ?" you sing. he scoffs "bein' dragged around playing limbo with those fuckin' cheaters ? yeah, plenty." the words come out bitterly at the memory of kaminari 'setting him up' during your game of limbo, competitive as always. you laugh at his sarcastic remark.

"i think you looked real handsome during the conga line," you sigh sweetly to sell the act, "so dreamy.." his words get caught in his throat and he pokes at your stomach in punishment to make you squirm around, then he's reaching to grab your hips shuffles around in your pockets while you try to keep him away. "i saw you recording me, freak ! gimme the phone."

"no !"

"give it !"

"leave me be, it's a m-momento for your 18th birthday !" you wheeze, giggling and shrieking as he takes his chance to tickle you. you hear him chuckle into your ear and he finally relents. "m'getting to that phone while you're asleep." you fake gasp in shock, wrapping your arms around yourself.

"you wouldn't !"

"don't test me." he snarks, throwing you a teasing grin. however, his expression morphs into a soft one, he shoves his hands into his black baggy jean pockets.

"heard you planned all this, huh ?" your eyes widen.

"no, no we all did."

"but it was your idea." he insists, and cuts you off before you can continue "don't bother, kirishima already told me." as thankful as you were for his help, you cursed kirishima in your head for throwing you to the explosive wolf like this. it's not like you were angry, but you really couldn't have done all of this on your own and it was definitely a team effort.

"well, i mean..yeah.." you admitted shyly, fumbling around with your hands. it's silent, then he chuckles at your humbleness and you're slowly, agonizingly slow at that, being backed up against the nearest wall. and his forehead maes contact with yours, you're tucked away into a corner of the gym where the rest can't see you, he places his arms against the wall next to your head.

your eyes dart from his to the floor "i just thought..it could be fun, you know..? m'sorry for lying to you about the bookstore.." you spilled, trying your best to stutter out an apology, until he stops you, raising your head up with his finger.

"you're really somethin' else, you know that ?" he smirks softly " i knew you were planning somethin', you were being too secretive. hanging out with my mom and shit, sneaky brat."

"i like hanging out with your mom !" you defending the older woman has your boyfriend roll his eyes "should like hanging out with your boyfriend first." he quips. you roll your eyes as well, but it doesn't take you long to burst into a fit of laughter and he follows quickly. your chest feels warm, tucked away giggling in this small corner of the bustling party, just you and katsuki.

"i have something i wanna show you." katsuki raises a brow at your sudden words. "oh, yeah ?" you nod. "but it's in my room." you offer him your hand shyly, and he smiles softly, huffing through his nose. grabbing your hand as you pull him out of the gym and walking silently into the night back towards the dorms.

"hey.." katsuki starts, you hum. "uhm, y'know—fuck.." he fumbles with his words and pulls you along when you stop walking to listen to him, wanting to continue so you wouldn't notice his embarrassed state too hard.

"thanks for this." your eyes widen and it's like he sensed you were about to speak because he interrupts you "yeah, yeah i know you all did." he mimicks your words, squeezing your hand in his warm one "but you thought it all up, so..thanks." he glances down at you " when i said i appreciated it, i really did. i really do."

your heart thump, thump, thumps against your chest, you feel it hammer in your ear. your hand squeezes his and he squeezes a second time. you don't know what you can say, so you smile at him. it's late at night and tiredness has finally started kicking in now that the music fades further and further away, but you're so, so happy and you think he can see it too. his smile slightly dimmer but still there and it makes you feel so warm and loved despite the slight chill of the outside. you wish you could see him smiling like this all the time with all your heart. and you hope he'll like your gifts and all of a sudden your at the entrance of the dorms. you make your way to your room in comfortable silence. your hand getting slightly clammy in his when you finally reach your floor and make your way to your room.

"what did you wanna show me ?" bakugou asks, closing your door behind you. you sit down on your bed and pat the spot next to you. he questions it with a raise of his brow, but doesn't any further and sits down next to you. you inhale, and reach underneath your bed to grab the gift and hand it over to him. his eyes widen, he narrows his eyes at you when your lips curl into a bashful smile.

"yn."

"i know.."

"i told you not to get me anything, stupid." he utters breathlessly, placing his hand onto your head and noogieing you. you reach up to stop him with a whine.

"i knooow !" you moaned "but just open it, please ?" you give him your best puppy eyes. he scoffs but finally relents. grabbing the thin box from your hands. he shakes it softly and you make a noise, reaching for his wrists.

"katsuki !" you giggle "don't shake it !"

"m'just trynna hear what it is."

"then open it !"

finally, he opens his the box. his eyes widen and he places it down on the bed to get a better look at the book you'd made for him. you perk up nervously when he inspects it thoroughly, running his fingers over the stickers you'd stuck to the front.

"i-it's a recipe book, see ? i know you love to cook so i figured you could add all of your favorite recipes in it." he flips the book open while you explain away, skimming over the pages " you can detach the rings too, so if you wanna add pages you can—"

before you know it you're interrupted and practically slammed onto your bed, a pair of warm bulky arms incasing you into your boyfriends chest. you shriek, but it melts into a giggle when he kisses all around your cheeks and nose softly, causing a ticklish sensation and when he lands a particularly wet kiss against your eyelid you laugh.

after moving his recipe booklet to your nightstand to keep it intact, he places you further onto your bed to kiss you again, obnoxiously loud at that, and you try to kiss back to the best of your ability but constantly huffing through your nose and smiling. he leans up to give you a break from his love attack, only for you to be hit dead on with all the love in his eyes.

"i'm gonna assume you're happy with your gift.. ?" he rolls his eyes at your joke, nudging his nose with yours.

"yeah, happy doesn't even begin to cut it. thanks, babe." he simpers, his eyes are bright and you make sure to commit his expression to memory. he leans down again, promptly kissing you deeply, you let yourself get carried away by his love and affection, kissing him back passionately but you remember your last gift for him.

"mm, there's—" he hums, continuing his flurry of kisses "there's something taped—" one more kiss cuts you off "—on the last page of your book, suki." one last loud peck and he pulls away to stare at you incredulously, you never stop surprising him, do you ?

he quickly retrieves it from your nightstand, and if his eyes widened before they practically bulge out of their sockets at the little holographic card neatly taped in his book. he carefully removes the tape and lifts up the card, looks at you, and looks back at the card in shock causing you to giggle.

"i remember how bummed you were after your card got all messed up during the war, so..." you're heart squeezes at the horrific memories of what had happened those few years ago, and how upset your katsuki had been when the card he'd kept close to his heart since he was a kid ended up crumpled up and bloody. he still has it, hidden in a box under his bed, but he never got to bring it to all might to get it signed. so you decided to do it for him and after racing neighborhood kids to get as many packets as you could get your hands on and a few packet of cards, you'd finally pulled it. you knew what you needed to do and the bewildered look in his eye was most definitely worth it.

"holy fuck..holy shit." he insists "how did you even—i—what ??" you burst out laughing at his disbelief, he could be so cute when he wanted to be.

"i just asked mr. all might if he wanted to, and he happily agreed, by the way." you answer simply with a shrug. however your smile fades just a bit when his eyes turn glossy.

"hey.." you crooned. quickly he shoves his head into his shoulder, furiously wiping at his eyes. he sniffles and grabs your wrist. you think he's about to pull you towards him only for him to crash against your chest again. you let out a 'oof !' sound, chuckling breathlessly. you don't say a word as you feel his arms wrap around you tighter, his face and hands heating up against you and the collar of your shirt growing wet. you don't mind, running your fingers through his hair until he's ready to speak again.

"yer gonna be the end of me, woman." his voice is just a little scratchy and he clears his throat, you giggle.

"this..i know i'm not the best at all this emotional stuff but—m'real thankful y'know.." he rambles against your neck, you nod "mhm." you urge.

"a-an' this is honestly more than i could ever ask for. ever." he looks up just enough to make sure you see his slightly red eyes "this is the best gift ever given to me. you're the best gift ever given to me, and i dunno what i did to deserve you, but i'm definitely not taken it for granted" he half jokes. you feel your whole body heat up and your eyes burn just a bit at the sincerety of his words.

"i love you, katsu. s'the least i can do." you sniffle. he leans up to kiss you almost immediately. it's soft and sweet and so perfect. it's just passionate and slow enough where you can practically feel the love he's trying to give to you, you know what he's trying to tell you without him even having to speak, because you love him and he loves you.

"i love you." he responds against your lips, you love him and he loves you, and you kiss him again. you hope he can feel how much you love him and how happy you are he enjoyed himself at his surprise birthday party. you hope you can keep seeing him smile like he did tonight and enjoy himself and his cake every year. you hope you can try every single recipe he adds to his recipe book and see the way his eyes light up at his signed holographic all might card every single year.

bakugou pulls away to look at you with all the love in the world and he thinks that any birthday he has in the future will be more than perfect if he can have you by his side for as long as he lives, every year.

aaaand it's done !! tysm to @queenpiranhadon for allowing me to participate in this event, and the last day no less ! such an honor ! i advise you go read my other collab partners chaps to get the context for this one, so please go read their parts as well, cus theyre all so good and so adorable, i had sm fun writing this and i hope yall enjoy <3 happy birthday katsuki !!

taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn't tag you :(* : @gina239 @mystic60 @meowze4r @icedemon1314 @bigsimpo343 @ah-mya @wheezdostuff @berryvioo @seonne @slayfics @food8me @katsuisbaby @azzo0 @kieran-rhoades @xnorthstar3x @le000xxgrd @tr-mha-fan

day one: you make a birthday gift for katsuki ! - @zanarkandskylines

day two: you invite all of class 1-A to the party ! - @xbabyd0lli3x

day three: you and mitsuki go shopping for decorations ! - @angels-fantasy

day four: katsuki tries to figure out what you’re planning ! - @starieq

day five: you set up gym gamma for the party ! - @lowkeyremi

day six: you bake a cake for the party ! - @queenpiranhadon

day seven: you and your classmates surpise katsuki ! -@cashmoneyyysstuff

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aajjks · 9 months

Text

Destiny (m)

synopsis. You can’t say no to him, it’s his birthday after all.

warnings. söft yändērē, sïmp bëhävïöür, öbsëssîvë thoughts, öbsëssïön, hê ïs sö përsüäsïvë, ünhëälthy rëlätïönshïp, yändêrê jk 10x.

note. HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE MAN I LOVE. please send asks for my jk’s, what do you love the most about jk? I love him, I hope you guys will love this as well, so what’s your answer going to be?

He just loves you so much.

Jungkook knows it’s unhealthy but he doesn’t care. You are everything to him, you’re his reason for everything, you’re the centre of his universe.

He wants to be with you forever, you’re both perfect for each other, God made you for him, and him for you.

Jungkook is a firm believer in destiny and he believes that you’re his destiny.

So that’s why he’s going to make you his tonight, forever.

You are nervous,

When it comes to your boyfriend you’re always tense.

You want to be happy, excited for your date tonight with him but all you feel is nervous, maybe it’s because you’re not sure about how he’s going to react to what you’re about to tell him.

Jungkook was always unpredictable.

As you sit right across him, you feel his eyes on you, you can’t really look at him without looking away, or playing with your nails. Your anxiety is rising through the roof.

Maybe you shouldn’t today, it’s his birthday after all, but it’s really now or never. Your courage is barely enough today, you’ll chicken out the next day.

“Baby? You okay?”

The feeling of his right tattooed hand on yours and his voice pulls you out of your inner dilemma, you blink twice, he looks so happy and beautiful. His eyes are filled with love for you, he looks at you like you’re his whole world.

And that scares you a little.

You nod to jungkook and he squeezes your hand again. “Just thinking about you, kook.” You reply, the night is so calm, the atmosphere is so peaceful yet Jungkook’s eyes don’t let you calm down.

“The food was so delicious right YN???? Also I ordered their top desert too, I hope you’ll enjoy it! I know we have my birthday cake too but I thought you should taste their special too, it’s so tasty I love it.”

“I am so happy I am spending my birthday with you YN.” The man gushes like a teen boy, never leaving your hand, “you know I love you a lot, so much.” He sighs like this is a dream he never wants to wake up from.

“You love me too right?”

Your breath hitches in your throat, why does he always ask you this question? His need to be reassured drives you insane sometimes, he knows the answer yet why?

“Of course.”

A huge smiles breaks out from his lips, his eyes crinkle so sweetly, his cheeks are almost red, your boyfriend blushes softly and giggles.

“Then, you’re going to love my surprise YN.”

Your furrow your brows.

“Actually Jungkook I need to tell- no YN. Not now please.” You close your mouth, anxiety rushes through you as you watch him stand up from the table, what is he doing?

You don’t get it, it’s his birthday yet he’s giving you a surprise?

Your eyes follow his as you watch him walk closer to you and you are too focused on him to utter a word, he looks at you and halts his movement, looking at you with his deep brown orbs.

“B-Babe what are you doing??”

It’s all too quick, he’s on one knee, as he puts his hand into his pocket, and takes out a velvet black box. Your heartbeat is going crazy.

No no no!!!

“JUNGKOOK!- YN. Will you make me the luckiest man alive, will you marry me?”

You can’t breathe, it feels so suffocating suddenly, his words hit you like a brick, ringing repeatedly in your ears. You want to cry.

You didn’t want this, not right now.

You stare at him dumbfounded, your mouth feels too dry to say anything, Jungkook stares back at you with eagerness jumping in his eyes, they are sparkling so much.

You watch as he openes the box, the ring takes your attention away from him, it’s gorgeous, it’s too big.

It looks too expensive.

“YN do you see the ring? I had it custom made, do you see these stones? These are yours and mine birth stones, and the diamond is in the middle of them. Do you like it?”

You stand up, speechless, “J-Jungkook….” He doesn’t move from his position, “please say yes YN. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you so much, please fulfill my birthday wish and marry me.”

You feel so helpless right now, he’s making you feel so weak, the look in his eyes is too strong. He loves you so much.

“I’ll make you the happiest woman YN, I’ll always take care of you and love you unconditionally, please baby, marry me.”

Jungkook is quick to grab your hand. “Baby say something, you know you can’t say no, I won’t accept it, say yes, say yes to me.”

this is exactly why you don’t want to marry him.

“I…I…”

“Just one yes YN, I’ll do anything… please marry me.”

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spider-stark · 1 month

Text

PRECIPICE

Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!Reader

Summary - Forced to attend a stuffy ball, you find yourself hiding beneath a table with Aegon.

Warnings - implied targcest as always

Word Count - 4.5k

// masterlist // send me your thoughts //

The delicious aroma of roast mutton is wafting over you as you pass one of the many long serving tables lining the walls of the ballroom. Your gaze drags along the vast spread that has been prepared for tonight; a variety of artisan breads, cooked meats, and candied desserts are laid out upon silver serving dishes.

As you reach the end of the first table, a pile of lemon cakes snag your attention. Neatly stacked atop an ornate porcelain platter, the cakes are coated in a thin glaze that shimmers in the light. Your mouth instantly begins watering at the sight, your stomach growling in a way that would be deemed improper for a Lady.

Beside you, holding a plate that has been loaded with mashed potatoes and honeyed chicken, Jace turns his head to cock a brow at you.

“Hungry?” He asks, chuckling softly.

You suck in a deep breath before forcefully tearing your gaze from the cakes. “Extremely.”

It takes an enormous amount of will power to turn away from the serving table while still empty-handed, but you somehow manage to do just that. Having hardly even walked a few steps, though, Jace is abandoning his plate to rush after you, softly seizing your wrist to keep you from moving any further.

“If you’re hungry, then you should eat.”

His concern is obvious, not only through his tone, but his expression as well. With his furrowed brow and tight-mouthed frown, you’re fairly certain that he’s already considering the consequences of dragging you back to the table and feeding you himself if need be.

Jace had always been that way—not only with you, but with everyone. He was kind hearted and considerate to fault.

“I would,” you smile, shaking your head slightly to dismiss his concern, “but I’m afraid that if I do, I might very well pop right on out of this ridiculously tight corset.”

You wave an idle hand down to your waist, unnaturally cinched by the intricate lacing and boning of the garment beneath your evergreen gown. His eyes follow the motion, tracing along the intense curve, lingering for a moment too long.

The explanation seems to wash away much of his concern, relieved to know that discomfort was the only reason you had chosen to abstain from the treats being served. Even so, a touch of empathy remains, accompanied by the faintest hint of desire gleaming in his amber gaze.

Amber—an unusual color for a boy of Velaryon blood. His eyes were one of the many reasons that your mother, the Queen Alicent, felt so confident in labeling Princess Rhaenyra’s boys as bastards behind closed doors. And, if you were being honest with yourself, you knew that there was likely truth to her claims. Your nephews probably were bastards—but you didn’t particularly care.

Jace was nice to you, and that was all that had ever mattered to you.

He clears his throat, realizing that he had been gawking at your body for far longer than he should. “It looks uncomfortable,” the words spill out without permission, and you nearly laugh when his eyes go wide. “That didn’t come out right, nothing about it actually looks uncomfortable—it looks stunning! I mean, you look stunning! It’s just that, I don’t know, I imagine that having something squeeze you so tightly might be-”

“Jace, it’s okay! Truly,” you interrupt his rambling with a soft giggle. “You should know that I’m not so easily offended,” you playfully chide. “Besides, you’re right. It is quite uncomfortable!”

Actually, quite felt like an enormous understatement. But you didn’t figure that Jace was particularly interested in hearing about how your breasts were aching from being roughly shoved up by the tight garment.

Jace looses a breath, his shoulders sagging in relief. “Then why bother wearing them? Many noble-women go without corsets. Even my mother hardly ever wears one—she believes they’re vile things that only aid in the objectification of ladies.”

Your brows rise, agreeing with the claims of your half-sister. But then you let your attention shift to the dais, meeting the rough stare of the reason why you had been forced into the tortuous garb—your mother.

She’s already watching you when you meet her eye, her lip curled as she sends you a pointed look, silently urging you away from your nephew. It takes a great deal of effort not to shrink beneath the weight of her attention, and you’re beyond grateful for the group of women who shuffle past you towards the dance floor, giving you an excuse to break the hold she has on you.

“I wear it because my mother wishes for all of her children to look their best,” you answer, shifting your focus back onto Jace. “And who am I to disappoint the Queen?”

He notes the sudden callousness of your tone, as well as the way you clasp your hands together at your waist, fidgeting with the golden ring on your index finger. He doesn’t bother asking if you’re okay, however, knowing well enough that you were not—and already knowing why, as well.

You imagine that Jace doesn’t much like your mother; both for her part in the rumors spread about him and his brothers and for the way she has treated his mother.

It makes you upset in a strange way, a part of you always wishing to defend the Queen, no matter how abhorrent her actions. After all, she was your mother—whether you like it or not—and you knew very well that if someone were to try to hurt you or your siblings, then she would gladly lay her life on the line for you.

You were thankful for her; even if her protection hurt, even if her maternal love only exists when your life is at stake.

“Speaking of your siblings,” Jace suddenly notes, veering slightly off-subject as his own stare drifts towards the dais, “how did Aegon manage to weasel his way out of attending tonight?”

Your brows snap together before letting your head snap back towards the dais, managing to avoid your mother’s nasty stare this time by looking to her right, taking note of each of your siblings.

Aemond is sat directly by her side, his posture rigid as his eye scans across the room, alert and on-guard as usual. Next to him is Helaena, leisurely picking at her plate of food and mindlessly bobbing her head along to the symphony being played for court musicians. Daeron, who your mother insisted fly Tessarion here from Oldtown so that he might be present for tonight, is sat next to your empty chair, making idle chatter with those around him.

But Aegon’s chair, sat between yours and Helaena’s, is vacant.

A knot forms in your stomach when you look back at Aemond, his piercing violet eye catching yours, gleaming with a silent order—find our imbecile brother before he makes a fool of us all.

You give him a curt nod before looking away, head whirling as you begin searching the crowd around you for any sign of your eldest brother.

“Simple,” you huff, “he didn’t.”

Jace hums his understanding as you politely excuse yourself, turning away from him to begin shoving through the throng of people filling the room.

You decline invitations to dance and spout excuses as to why you can’t stop to chat as you push past noblemen-and-women from various Houses, trying to maintain the pleasant persona your mother favored while still moving fast enough that you might find Aegon before he finds any new ways to publicly bring shame upon the Targaryen name.

It’s exhausting work—and by the time you have shoved yourself to the other end of the room without finding him, you nearly consider giving up. Your chest hurts and your scalp is itching from being poked and prodded by a dozen or so pins, all of which had been meticulously placed by servants to arrange plaits into a fanciful half-updo.

In many ways, you look like your mother; with your elaborate hairstyle and green dress, the look is tied together by a pendant of the Seven-Pointed Star dangling from your neck.

And, in many ways, you hate it.

Much to the Queen’s dismay, you’ve never much liked the elegant styles preferred by many women at court. No, instead you spent much of your time donning mail with your hair lazily pulled back, joining Aemond for practice in the training yard.

She hated how unrefined you were, how indelicate you were; fearful for how others at court might view you for it, for how much attention you might draw to yourself.

You blow out a sigh, resisting the urge to pull all of the pins from your hair as you will yourself to keep walking, to keep looking for Aegon. A table overflowing with carafes of arbor wine and flagons of ale catches your attention, setting off alarm bells in your mind.

If Aegon were going to choose anywhere to hide at this godsforsaken ball, then it would certainly be in close proximity to the alcohol.

A cacophony of laughter and clinking goblets surrounds you as you approach, scanning over rows of bottles and skimming the faces of those nearby. Spinning your ring on your finger, you walk along the entire length of the long serving table, disappointed when you reach the end of it and find that your brother is still nowhere in sight.

Chewing on your cheek, you fight the urge to pour yourself a drink when you notice a carafe of blackberry wine. The plum colored liquid seems to call your name, singing promises of sweet oblivion, an escape from the restless feeling clawing at your chest.

You’re out of place here in court, and you always have been—you know that, and you worry that everyone around you knows, too.

Sensical enough to recognize that alcohol would likely just exacerbate your current ill-feelings, you shun the carafe and turn towards the grand entrance. Lifting your chin and squaring your shoulders, you try to appear more composed than you feel as you saunter towards the large wooden doors.

If Aegon had snuck off with one of the serving girls, then there was a good chance that he was still somewhere in the hall, either flirting or feeling up their skirts. And, if you were wrong, then at least he had provided you with an excuse to slip away from this mess of a ball.

As you pass by the last serving table, the platters and dishes atop it already thoroughly picked over, you feel someone tug at your dress. You whirl around, a fiery retort already falling off your tongue, fully intending to rip into whoever had found the audacity to touch you without permission—only to find yourself insulting the air.

There was no one there, at least not close enough to have touched you.

For a heartbeat you begin to reel, wondering if you’ve started to lose your mind before feeling the sensation again. A sharp tug at the fabric, just by your knee. Your head snaps down towards your dress, covering your mouth before a gasp can slip your lips.

An arm is peeking out from beneath one of the finely embellished tablecloths, and a well-groomed hand is clutching your skirts. You instantly recognize the hand as Aegon’s, having become intimately familiar with your brother’s touch throughout your life.

Taking a step closer to the covered table, you try to look natural as you hunch over it slightly to get closer to his level, feigning an interest in a half-eaten roast duck.

“What in the Seven Hells are you doing, Aegon?!” Your voice is hushed, not quite a whisper, but low enough so that no one other than him might hear.

Releasing his hold on your skirts, Aegon lifts the tablecloth a little higher, revealing his face. “Get under here,” he tilts his head, motioning for you to join him beneath the table.

“No!”

He swiftly presses a finger to his lips in response to your incredulous shout, shushing you. You stiffen, nervously flicking your eyes to each side, checking to ensure that no one had heard you. Fortunately, the courtiers around you appear far too invested in their conversations and drinks to notice how you appear to have shouted at a roast duck.

Aegon’s lilac eyes are wide, pleading as he shoves the tablecloth up higher, giving you more room to slip beneath it. “Would you just shut up and come?”

It’s the sheer urgency of his tone that piques your interest, although you wish that it hadn’t. You huff out an annoyed sigh, taking another look around the room before gathering up your skirts and sinking to your knees, crawling underneath the table.

Once you’ve successfully sat down beside him on the stone floor, he drops the cloth, shielding the two of you from any prying eyes. The material is thin enough that it allows some light to pass through it, very dimly illuminated Aegon’s grinning face, all urgency having suddenly vanished.

“Welcome,” he almost sounds breathless, the word airy—and utterly unnecessary.

You can faintly see the rosy coloring of his cheeks, a few messy silver waves tumbling across his face, and you’re immediately willing to bet that he’s extremely buzzed. “What are you doing, Aeg?”

Your tone is firm, but there’s a certain gentleness to it that was specially reserved for your eldest brother. While you maintain that you love all three of them equally, it’s undeniable that your relationship with Aegon has always been… different.

He reaches to his side, lifting a carafe from the ground beside him. “Having a party,” he says, raising it towards your face and playfully swirling the garnet colored liquid.

“I’m unsure if you’re aware,” you motion towards the cloth shrouding you from the bustling ballroom, “but our mother has already planned quite the celebration for tonight—and she likely does not wish for it to be ruined by her drunkard son ducking beneath tables like an imbecile!”

Aegon pokes his bottom lip out into a pout. “Why must you assume that I am drunk?”

“Because you’re you,” you drone, cocking your head at him, “and you are always drunk.”

Rolling his eyes, he sits the carafe down on the ground between you. There are only mere inches separating the two of you, both of you squeezing your limbs close to your body to avoid having a foot peek out from beneath the table. Sitting this close to him, you can smell the sweetness of the arbor red of his breath—as well as the faintest hint of sulfur, a sign that he had clearly gone riding on Sunfyre earlier and had failed at washing off the dragon’s strong scent.

You take another breath, inhaling the smell of him into your lungs. It was familiar—comfortable, urging your taut muscles to slacken in his presence.

“And what if I told you that I am sober right now?”

A snort escapes you, sparing him an incredulous look. “Then I would call you a liar,” you tell him, tapping a finger against the rim of the half-empty carafe.

His stare drops down towards it, watching as the liquid ripples when you pull your hand back. When he looks back up, he’s wearing a crooked smile that makes your heart flutter. “Mostly sober, then.”

It’s nearly impossible to stifle your laugh, clamping a hand over your mouth so that you might muffle the sound and prevent passersby from becoming suspicious. The sound only makes his smile grow wider and more genuine, an expression that he graced very few people with.

“I’ll ask again,” you say, speaking only when you're confident that no more laughter will tumble out. “Why are you down here? If mother finds out then she will be furious and-”

Aegon tosses his head back, cutting you off with a groan. “Mother will be furious no matter what,”

Disdain drips from each syllable, thickening the air around you. He didn’t like talking about her much, and you couldn’t blame him for it. Of all your siblings, Aegon had been dealt the worst hand, simply by being born first. He got the brunt of your mothers vile behavior; and you hated that, too.

“Because,” lazily rolling his neck so that he can look at you again, he answers, “I’d rather spend my night under here,” he flicks a hand up, lazily gesturing around himself, “than be forced to sit through even one more tedious speech from some ancient Lord of gods-know-where!”

You bite your tongue, holding back another laugh.

“And,” he continues, nodding in your direction, “I am now saving you from the same mundane fate. You’re welcome.”

“What makes you think that I needed your saving?” You ask, brows rising.

Aegon purses his lips, placing a finger against his chin as he feigns contemplation, studying the intricate styling of your hair, the modest long-sleeved gown, and the Star resting against your covered breasts. “Perhaps it was that our mother has you dressed up as though you’re an aspiring Septa.”

Thinking of the plain women, with their simple gowns and traditional head coverings, you nearly laugh again as you ask, “How many Septa’s do you know that wear corsets and jewelry, brother?”

“None,” he admits, shoulders lifting into an indolent shrug. “Though, if they looked more like you, then I might finally have a reason to attend prayer. Beautiful women would be more than enough to turn me into a pious man.”

A warmth creeps up your neck as blood rushes to your cheeks, unsure if his statement was meant as a compliment—was he saying that he found you beautiful? If so, it shouldn’t have been a particularly shocking revelation. After all, Aegon had complimented you before, many times.

In all fairness, however, most of those times had been when he was thoroughly besotted. He had a habit of sneaking into your rooms and practically draping himself off of you, muttering drunken nonsense about how breathtaking you were. You had never placed much truth in the statements though, assuming that Aegon likely didn’t even recognize who he was speaking to, much less whose bed he had crawled into.

But even if this was a genuine and mostly sober attempt at complimenting you, the flattery of it doesn’t last nearly long enough. Your own insecurity washes back over you far quicker than you like, reminding you of just how unlike yourself you currently feel.

“I do not believe that anything would be capable of turning you into a pious man,” you joke, trying and failing to cover up the melancholy that has settled into your bones. “Not even beautiful women.”

“You could.”

The answer comes far too quick, spilling from his tongue with an eagerness that even seems to catch him by surprise.

“Though, I must say, for as exquisite as this dress makes you look,” his hand reaches across the short expanse dividing you, mindlessly running his fingers along the fabric covering your shoulder, “I much prefer the way look in armor—sweaty skin, messy hair, sword in-hand—all of it.”

Your breath catches in your throat as his touch drifts towards the center of your chest, fingers dragging along the thin chain leading to your pendant, lifting the Star into his palm. He stares at it for a moment before yanking it roughly from your neck, grinning when you yelp. “But this,” he lifts the Seven-Pointed Star slightly, “I absolutely hate.”

With that, he tosses it from underneath the table, sending it skittering across the floor beyond the tablecloth.

Your jaw drops open, a hand pressed against the now-sore spot along the back of your neck. Despite yourself, your lips start to curve into a playful smile. You try fighting against it, try pressing them into a firm line, but fail. “Mother will not be happy about that-”

“She’s never happy,” Aegon interjects. His own expression shifts, the line on his forehead deepening as he says, “Do not let yourself bear her misery. Life is too short—and you deserve more than that.”

A palpable silence is thickening the air, and your breathing seems to synchronize as you simply stare at one another.

Slowly, nervously, you say, “I’m not sure what it is that I deserve,”

“You deserve,” he pauses, lips still parted despite the absence of speech. Then, swallowing back the words that had been building in his throat, he says, “you deserve whatever it is that you want, sister.”

Your hand falls from your neck into your lap, and you avert your gaze, watching your fingers as they fidget with your ring. “And what if I do not know what I want?”

Once, you had thought that you wanted a life like Jaces. A happy life, with a mother that knew how to love you and siblings that hadn’t been raised in fear of their half-sister ascending the throne, taught that their very existence was a threat to her power. But, suddenly, you felt as though you were no longer sure.

Aegon hesitates, watching you carefully. His lilac eyes appear as though they’re searching for something within your own—a hint of recognition, or reciprocation. If he found what he was looking for, then you were unaware. “Then you’ll figure it out,” he sighs, his smile not reaching his eyes. “You have all the time in the world to decide.”

There is something reassuring about his statement, making it resonate with you in a way that you hadn’t expected. You look up, holding his gaze for a heartbeat, then two, and you almost swear that you can see it—the silent invitation, the plea to delve deeper into his words, to decipher exactly what it was that he was promising you.

You have all the time in the world—all the time in the world to decide if he might ever be something you want.

Suddenly you find yourself dancing on the edge of a precipice, chest tightening as you grapple with the idea that, maybe, something more might exist between you and Aegon.

That, maybe, he had always known who he was complimenting and what bed he was slipping into.

That, for him, it had always been you.

“Aegon, I-”

He shakes his head, cutting you off before you have a chance to say something that he fears you may regret. Then, sliding the carafe between you to the side, he scoots closer. “If you plan on staying under my table,” he teases, clearing his throat, “then we need to do something about your hair.”

“I thought you said I looked exquisite?” You stay still as he starts toying with the strands, trying to swallow the tumult of your own emotions.

Aegon’s plucking various pins from your hair, tossing them to the ground. “Yes, but I also said that I prefer your hair when it’s messy. It’s more…” he sucks in a breath, unable to hide the admiration swelling in his chest when he finally exhales, “you.”

Your cheeks are burning hot, and you’re suddenly very thankful for the lack of light around you. On instinct, you almost tell him how your mother wouldn’t agree—but then you think better of it.

“You’re… generous.”

Something about your voice sounds foreign in your ears. You sound nervous—and you’re not used to feeling nervous around Aegon.

His fingers are combing through the plaits forming your updo, his brow drawn taut, framing his lilac eyes, shining bright with concentration. “Generous,” he snorts softly, nails raking lightly against your scalp as he shakes the strands loose, “I don’t hear that one often.”

“Well perhaps you’d hear it more if you weren’t such an ass,” you shoot back, slowly trying to slip back into your usual self.

“Me? An ass?” He’s untangled the final braid, scooting away from you slightly now as he presses a hand to his chest, feigning innocence. “Never.”

Now falling in loose waves, free of those incessant pins, you brush your hair over your shoulder. “Just earlier I heard you telling Lord Grover that if wisdom were measured in wrinkles that he would be named Grand Maester.” You point out, unable to mask your amusement while recalling the old man’s shocked expression.

“Is it not true?” Aegon smirks. “The man is nearly seventy, and his age certainly shows.”

“Lord Grover is only two-and-fifty, brother.”

His brows shoot up, gaping at you. “Tell me that you’re not serious!” When you nod, confirming that you are, he sucks his teeth. “Wow—how unfortunate. He looks positively dreadful for his age, then. I thought that he surely had one foot in the grave by now.”

“Aegon!” You rebuke through your own sputtered laughter, shaking your head at his insolence. “See? This is what I was talking about! If you weren’t so crude then you might get more compliments.”

Swinging his arm back to grab for the carafe, Aegon’s nose scrunches slightly. “Why bother?” He implores, a hint of mischief in his tone. “My crudeness is what you like most about me, is it not? Without it, dear sister, your life would be quite boring.”

Just before he brings the carafe to his lips, he inclines his head towards the tablecloth, emphasizing his words. A reminder—that, without him, you would still be out there, sitting miserably amongst your siblings and being forced to dance with Lord’s twice your age.

There was something more beneath the veil of humor and arrogance, however. A craving that had him tipping the carafe back, hoping that the stinging of the alcohol might numb his gnawing desire for validation—to hear you say that you yes, my life would be boring without you.

“I suppose you’re right,” the admission has him pausing, the carafe lingering against his bottom lip. “Truth be told, I had never put much thought into it before, but you do have a way of keeping life interesting, Aeg. So, I must agree that, without you, my life would be positively dreadful.” Staring at the ground in-between you, you smile before adding, “After all, who else would be able to convince me to risk our mother’s scorn and crawl beneath a table to drink wine and fix my hair?”

There’s a slight tremor in his voice when he speaks, trying to mask the warmth swelling in his chest, “You have yet to drink a single drop.”

“Then I suppose that is the next thing you’ll have to fix,” you say, sticking your hand out towards him, urging him to pass you the carafe. He hands it to you while biting back a grin.

“Careful,” he warns, “drink too much and you may end up like your drunkard brother.”

“I don't mind,” You mirror his expression, your own lips curving as you raise the glass upwards, the strong scent of the arbor red stinging your nostrils. “I quite like my drunkard brother.”

His gaze burns against your flesh as you tilt your head back, allowing the alcohol to slip over your tongue, and you suddenly realize that you are no longer standing on the edge of that precipice.

You’re falling.

a/n - i was honestly just thinking about jude and cardan hiding under a table in the cruel prince and ended up with this? so yeah, definitely inspired by jurdan content (but y'know... no coup d'etat lmao).

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late night cravings

pairing: sirius black x afab!reader summary: you sneak off the night for a cheeky midnight snack, hoping sirius won’t notice (spoiler alert: he does, and he’s sulky about it) wc: 4k cw: pregnancy & baby talk, descriptions of food and eating, brief allusions to sex (not directly stated), no physical traits of reader specified but sirius can hold things out of reader’s reach a/n: so i had a lengthy angst fic for sirius’s debut on my blog and im halfway done on it but i cant seem to finish it bc it sends me to a depressing spiral each time <33333 so pls enjoy a very self-indulgent domestic excessively fluffy blurb with my beloved <33333 p.s this is not proofread so plz ignore mistakes ty <3

opening the tomato salsa jar turned out to be the hardest part.

back in bed, you thought the trickiest part of your late night escapade from sirius black was his long limbs wound up tight with yours, even in low light of the small nightlight in the corner, you could still make out the intricate script and designs following the curves and dips of his strong arms, holding you close to his chest.

you had it committed to memory by now, having explored sirius’s body well enough to memorize the way his skin feels against yours, with heartbeats and breaths falling in sync without much effort.

judging by the way his breathing gets heavy after every exhale and the little snores that escape in between, you knew he was beyond knackered. it was day five of sirius’s new job as an deputy director at the auror office. the day he learned about the promotion was pure unadulterated happiness. after letting you know through an express owl, you mustered up enough vigor available to your seven months pregnant self to get out of the house and go to the local shops to get party supplies and food to celebrate sirius’s achievement.

Coming in third out of the list of things he genuinely loved in this life, after you and his luscious locks of course, was his job as an auror. young sirius had never thought in his wildest dreams that he’d work at the ministry, much less actually enjoy it. can’t really blame sixteen year old sirius, starting an underground rock band with the marauders seemed like the perfect thing to do after gruelling hours of studying at hogwarts.

defense against the dark arts came to him naturally, with some counterspells like second nature to him as being exposed with use of dark magic young gave him no choice but to grow up quickly and defend himself from the excruciating pain or the mind control that was from his own family’s doing. Winning the first wizarding war alongside his friends and found family has solidified sirius’s calling in eradicating the use of dark magic and making sure the next generation can have a safe and normal life without the looming threat of a megalomaniac sorting people with their blood status and taking over the wizarding world.

that night, sirius walked into a dark and eerily quiet home that had his senses on overdrive. but when the lights turned on and he saw familiar faces of his loved ones all beaming with pride, and there you were in the center, looking ethereal and round and all his, with his favorite red velvet cake on hand and a ridiculously big balloon that says “congratulations” tied to the candle, he could have melted in a syrupy mess of gooey happiness right then and there if he hadn’t caught himself together last minute.

Sirius had thought– that after you agreeing to go on one date with him to hogsmeade, winning the quidditch cup and seeing the proud look on minerva’s face, going home for christmas break and euphemia welcoming him with a kiss on the cheek and a warm hug, remus teaching at the very same classroom you all were in years back, james and lily’s first kiss at the altar, holding little baby harry in his arms, you walking down the aisle with a bouquet of peonies in the most beautiful dress, and when you held his hand that one night and told him that you were expecting—- that he knew of love. but you do something extraordinary that has him scrambling to add to the endless list of why you’re the love of his life. he was so focused on you that he wasn’t prepared to catch pure muscle of james’s body as he flung himself to tackle his best friend in a hug. luckily, remus with a party hat was aptly standing between a toppling sirius and the living room wall, and he singlehandedly saved the two from creating a huge hole in the drywall.

this was the life, sirius had thought after many hours of partying celebrating and eating, when he laid beside you in bed, limbs tangled, sated and dizzy and warm as you both came down from your highs. and he gets to spend it with you.

but as fun and exciting sirius’s new job is, it entailed an increased amount of responsibility as he was assisting the head auror. his least favorite part of the job was the boatloads of paperwork he has to deal with. An express owl almost dropped a howler letter into the soup you were making for dinner earlier that day and you opened it up panicking thinking it was an emergency. But no, it was just sirius whining that his hand hurt and is about to fall off and that he needs you to kiss it better.

You did eventually, and one thing led to another and here you were, tucked in your husband’s warm embrace. you could stay here forever, only separating to drink water and bathroom trips, but the gnawing urge to eat something savory, sweet, tangy, and crunchy has possessed your entire being, the only way to quell it was to get up and go to the kitchen. the baby doesn’t seem to have a semblance of time yet, a fact you both envied and despised, because the clock on your nightstand said it was 3:48am in bold red numbers. A few months ago, you’d never be caught dead awake at this time, taking your precious sleep time seriously. The man himself would poke fun at you and say you’d gladly sleep through an earthquake or a housefire just as long as you get your seven to eight hours of sleep per day, and despite of your assumed role of contradicting and arguing with spontaneous and stubborn sirius, you had to agree.

But this was not about you anymore, or at least not quite yet for a good seventeen years, so you untangle yourself from sirius and your perfectly warm and cool side of the bed and waddle down the carpeted stairs, careful not to set foot on the creaky step that might risk waking sirius up. You need your secrets too, and you’re not in the mood to share food.

Grateful for the heavens that you and sirius stocked up on groceries two days ago, you had a wide selection of random items to munch on. A few days ago, you were introduced to the idea of a fluffernutter sandwich while scrolling through the short videos on your feed. Peanut butter and marshmallow fluff as spreads on their own was something you didn’t mind eating, but both together in a sandwich? You were enthralled, and the only way to quell the curiosity was to make it. So you did.

You shovel and slather more than enough spread on each slice of bread, though you might have used the same spoon on both jars.. but who’s to tell you off otherwise, your snoozing husband upstairs? pfft.

Smiling happily as if committing a particularly naughty crime, you place the spoon in your mouth, licking off the gooey mixture as you place the sandwich on a piece of paper towel (yes, you take the no dishwashing tonight seriously) on the table. humming, you mull over what to prepare next.

The baby needs something savory and tangy, but you’re not particularly keen on going through all the effort of heating up the soup from dinner, not to mention the amount of cutlery and dishes you’ll use for that, so you zero in on the tostada shells you chose rather than tortilla chips because its much more crispier.

Opening the fridge, you see the laughing cow on a round packaging and decide its the one, so you grab two cheese wedges from it.

Sirius had argued that the next aisle had actual, real blocks of cheese with a variety on display and that there was no point in getting artificially flavored ones. But you’ve gotten really good at giving him the stank face, which inadvertently ends 75 percent of nonsense bickering before it even starts; and since you’ve started showing more and more, sirius has admittedly gone softer on you, not that he was ever more but a pushover your entire relationship. Merely widening of eyes and a jut of your lower lip, even adding a slight tremble or two during times where you did actually fuck up, sirius can’t hold his stance longer than a minute before sighing and taking you in his arms. he might call you out for being a brat at times, but there’s no denying he loves it. And so the artificial wheel of cheese wedges got purchased and bagged home, and you’re meticulously spreading it over the golden shells, leaving little to no gaps of it bare.

Laying it on another paper towel, your heart gets giddy on your chest knowing you’re in for a treat tonight. But not quite time to start munching, the baby reminds you that you still need something tangy to complete the meal. So comes your big predicament, should you get dill pickles or tomato salsa?

It took you ten seconds too long of weighing down the pros-and-cons of choosing one and feeling like you made the wrong choice if you end up not liking it. It doesn’t help that the pregnancy hormones make you more anxious and tend to put you always on the verge of tears. So when the not-so-groundbreaking idea of just eating them both hits you, you feel the weight slide off your shoulders as you sigh. Because again, who’s gonna tell you that eating pickles this late at night can give you bad acid reflux, your snoozing husband? Pfft.

Snacking on some, you do manage to pick out the juiciest looking pickle chips and lay them atop of your tostadas. You and the little one are beyond excited to dive in. It’s looking like a mini upside-down pizza with the cheese spread first then the pickle as toppings. Only thing left now was the the tomato salsa slathered on top to seal the deal.

Opening tight lids wasn’t an issue for you before, in fact, you took pride when friends hand you a jar or bottle to open because you could do it in a breeze. Chances were, the lid wasn’t even screwed on that tight, you were just built different, you’d say with a shrug once you give the items back. So when the tomato jar doesn’t budge after two attempts, you get puzzled.

Maybe your hands were slippery? You wipe them down with a tea towel and try again. No.

You weren’t holding it tight enough? Fingers held taut against the lid, you try three times. Still no.

Determined, you try different positions before letting the jar go, shooting it glares as if it’d get intimidated and just open up for you. You were also getting lightheaded, and passing out on the kitchen floor due to excessive stimulation of your vagal reflex because you were too stubborn to use magic or wake your husband up to open it for you doesn’t seem like the best way to spend the early Tuesday morning hours.

Magic was even out of the option (well, in your brain it was), because your wand’s tucked beside sirius’s on your nightstand, and frankly, you don’t have the patience to drag yourself upstairs just to flick a utility spell to open the wretched thing. So you do the next best option: lose hope.

The disappointment was mutual between you and your baby. And the acid reflux did start to kick in, making your stomach grumble in both hunger and pain. This was all going so well until it isn’t, tears began to make its way up to your eyes.

“See, this is what you get for being greedy and eating all snacks by yourself,” sirius huffs behind you, deep voice still raspy with sleep. You didn’t even hear him getting out of bed and coming down the stairs, that’s how preoccupied you were with opening the jar.

He grabs the container away from you to open it, but not without throwing a scowl at your direction, handsome face contorted with furrowed eyebrows and downturned mouth, enough to express that he felt betrayed by this whole ordeal. If you were in a better mood, you’d poke his sides and tackle him playfully, teasing him for being sulky. But for now, you need the jar opened so you could eat in peace. You’ll deal with the sharing food issue later.

“t wasn’t supposed to take long,” you mumble, caught off guard and refusing to make eye contact, pretending the fridge magnets beside sirius’s head is ten times more interesting than his face. You don’t miss his raised eyebrow and snort at your response.

The second attempt comes and he opens it with a satisfying pop. your mouth falls agape, eyeing the *now accessible* tomato salsa dip in disbelief. What the hell?

And you couldn’t even take the smug grin spreading across sirius’s face by the millisecond. Refuse to. You try to snatch the open container away from him but he holds it higher and out of reach, making a show of puffing his chest, flexing his biceps, even giving it a kiss. This is all James’s doing, you need to have a talk with Lily soon about keeping these two separated.

“Sirius!” you try to plead your way out. the trademark innocent, pouty expression settles on your face like a second mask, hoping he’d go down this easy.

It doesn’t work. He just chuckles, mocking your pleas and face while his free hand sneaks up and pinches your unsuspecting cheek to tease you further.

You yelp in mock outrage and swat his hand away, trying your best to keep your displeasure firm on your face, but you feel the giggles coming up. “This is why I sneak out alone to eat, you’re such a bully,” you huff, but take a seat in front of your makeshift spread.

Sirius places the jar near you, but not without poking your exposed sides, armed with the knowledge that the easiest way to get you laughing (and eventually conceding in an argument) is knowing where your tickle zones are. “Oh yeah,” he drawls, plopping himself beside you. “That’s also why you’re the only one waking up with an upset stomach, stinking up our bathroom so early in the morning.”

Now this one got you appalled, embarrassed, disturbed, basically hit with all the feelings. You’ve been living together long before you got married, and he never brought up this issue until today. “That’s it. I’m leaving.” He makes a move to snatch the sandwich away but the embarrassment on your cheeks made you more agile, swatting his hand away and shielding the sandwich with your hands. “After I finish my meal,” you continue, shooting him a glare.

But see, one of the things that drove you nuts even way back at Hogwarts, was how Sirius Black mostly managed to outsmart you or be one step ahead of you in everything. After you turned him down without much thought whatsoever despite his grand declaration of interest, Sirius took it upon himself to show you (1) that you made a mistake for rejecting him, (2) that his ego won’t let you embarrass him like that again, (3) and that you won’t get rid of him that easily. Once he set his eyes on you, you were face to face with him in everything: grades, OWLs/NEWTs scores, Quidditch plays and bets, wins at the duelling club, even with the fucking gobstones tournament. He never let you catch a break.

Things were surely different now, since you vowed to be with him in sickness and health and untill death parts you both– hell, you’re carrying his child. So you figured maybe, maybe, he’ll let you catch a break this time. Let you eat in peace as you mull over his bathroom comment and how you’re going to get him back.

But again, no. Unlike you, Sirius remembered to grab his wand from the nightstand. Not even batting an eye, he says nonchalantly, “Accio sandwich.” And the fluffernutter you protected with all your physical might managed to escape your watch, and land gracefully on his waiting palm.

What irritated you more from this whole ordeal? The prodigal auror that climbed his way up the ranks and became the youngest deputy director, fully capable of complex spells and wielding different kinds of magic, felt the need to do a verbal Accio spell just to make a point to you.

Out of words, you just stare at him blankly. Too stunned to even cry in frustration because you knew you made a conscious, willing choice to be with this man.

Maybe your best guilt-tripping expression comes best when you’re not trying. Color drains from his face when you remained silent and he scrambles to take a bite off the sandwich before handing it back to you, or rather placing it on your limp hand as you refuse to acknowledge it, still too hurt to budge. “‘m sorry, baby. Just wanted to eat with you since we didn’t get to earlier.”

He did arrive later than usual, deciding to finish the stack of case files and paperwork so he won’t have to sift through them again the next day. There were plans to wait for him before eating, but when the jitteriness and slightly nausea started to kick in, you had no choice in the matter. Sirius had been sulky and clingy the moment he got home, and as compromise, you stayed to watch him eat; listening and reacting animatedly as he ranted about his stressful day.

So you cut him off some slack, also exhausted from all the emotional stimulation sirius brought since he woke up. As a silent peace offering (also because you’re not ready to say sorry to his face), you slide the tostadas within his reach and finally take your bite of the goddamn sandwich. It was good, tasted as expected, sweet peanut butter. You’d probably have it again as a drunk at 3am meal.

Sirius also went and got snacks of his own: microwaved popcorn, pickles, toasted bread slathered with butter, and grapes. Together, you munched on the little spread of random food you could find in your kitchen at 4am in comfortable silence, which is surprising after the earlier bickering. No matter how cheesy it sounded in your head, sirius was the only person that can drive you to the brink of insanity and right back. You were in for a hell of a ride for the foreseeable future; and while there’s a lot of uncertainty right now and changes to be made when the little one gets here, you’re beyond happy that you get to do all this with him.

Sleep was beginning to creep up on you. Of course he notices this right when you do, so a warm arm wrapped across your back urges you to settle on his lap, bodies melding into the familiar crevices like puzzle pieces, though you both had to adjust certain angles to accommodate your growing belly. You sit like this for a while; your head tucked securely in the crook of his neck, steady breaths lulling you to sleep, while sirius’s hands instinctively finds its way under your sleep shirt and on the natural curve of your belly, lithe fingers stroking and drawing soothing circles anywhere he could reach.

you wish you could stay like this forever– cozy and soft and safe– but alas, you were carrying sirius black’s offspring. the baby decides to reward you with a round of kicks, probably giddy after feeling their father’s touch. Sirius chuckles and coos at your bump, while a muffled groan leaves your lips from the sudden onslaught of movement, but still refusing to move from this comfortable position.

Smooth cold lips touch the side of your forehead and you relish in the feeling. “Does it ever hurt, love? All that kicking and wiggling?”

“Not really,” a content sigh leaves your lips. “Feels strange at times, seeing your belly move on its own.”

To prove your point, two tiny bulges make a split second appearance just above where Sirius’s hand lay. His thumb soothes the area lovingly.

“Definitely getting stronger though; Lily told me during the later months, harry for some reason loved to kick downwards, making bathroom trips more frequent than it already is. Not excited for that.”

He presses kisses on your forehead, temple, hairline, anywhere he could reach without moving too much. “Things that you do and endure for this ‘lil troublemaker,” sirius murmurs. He doesn’t need to say it out loud, you could feel his body reverberating with awe and fondness. You try to bask in it for as long as you could, but a passing thought makes its presence known to you again.

“Do i really make the bathroom stink?” it comes out whinier than you intended it to be but you just had to know for peace of mind.

Sirius’s whole frame vibrates as he tries to stifle his laughter, taking you with him. He’s laughing at your expense but you feel your own giggles brewing in your belly. You try to hold it in for longer, preserving some self respect. “A little bit,” he says solemnly. You groan, earlier mortified feeling returning in full swing. It triggers another round of chuckles.

“But dove, it’s nothing that my deep love and adoration for my lovely strong hot and sexy wife can’t handle.” He says assuredly, and you curse yourself for being so down bad for this man as blood rushes to your cheeks from his words. Good thing it’s dim and your face is still tucked in the crook of his neck.

You do pinch his arm in response, and both your laughters compliment the comfortable silence.

“Although,” he says after a while. “The betrayal of you eating without me still hurts.”

“Siri.. i’m sorry,” you mumble. “‘y looked so tired, Didn’t wanna wake you up.”

He tuts and doesn’t say much after that. In sirius dictionary, this means he just wants some affection from you— for you to dote on him and coax out his forgiveness, even if you both know he’s not really mad; judging by his arms still wrapped securely around your frame and steady breaths that tickle and fan on your bare skin.

So you mimic his actions from earlier, planting tiny kisses on his neck, collarbones, jawline, anywhere your lips could reach. Kissing his cheek seem to do the trick, his fake scowl quickly coming undone as a bashful smile breaks through the frown, and his tiny dimple you love so much making an appearance. The muggle maternity books did say dimples are genetic, so an image of a little Sirius running around and smiling up at you with those dimpled cheeks is a warming thought.

“I am charming all the lids to be stuck at night as soon as i wake up tomorrow for work.” You poke a sensitive spot on his side, making him jolt, but you couldn’t resist laughter as it bubbles out of the surface. “You’re insufferable, I can’t believe I married a psychopath.”

“And you let him knock you up too. I’d say it takes one to know one, hm?”

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dotster001 · 1 year

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Hello! I really liked your fanfic about mistletoe and I would like to submit my application. Can you write what type of girl the characters in the twisted wonderland like?

What Kind of Girl they Like

Summary: Fem! Reader What girl the twisted wonderland boys say they will fall for, versus who they will be attracted to.

CW: Fem! Reader, some of the boys are assholes with their answers, it's explained away in the who they end up with section, so take it with a grain of salt, also these are just my opinions. If you don't agree that's ok!

A/n:it is truly humbling how few of these I actually fit the description of 😭 also, feel free to send in an ask if you want the staff and non nrc boys, or a masc. Reader version (there are some differences for some of them for a male lover)

Masc Version gn! Version

Heartslaybul

Ace Trappola

What he says

"I dunno, she'd have a great bod and make me sandwiches. Kidding! Sevens, don't glare at me like that, I was just messing with ya! She's probably smart, and sweet as sugar, and let's me get into trouble. And a great bod wouldn't hurt- hey don't throw stuff at me!"

Who he ends up with

Ace is going to be naturally attracted to a girl he can "bring out the worst in." She probably starts out shy and quiet, then Ace adopts her into his friend group, and now they are sassing each other back and forth. She calls him out on his bullshit, and fights against his teasing with teasing of her own. But she also takes care of him when he's down. He's hiding a lot of insecurity under his cool guy exterior, so if she lets him snuggle, and lets him whine, and then whispers how much she loves him, he'll be a happy man. Also, side note, he's fine if you like sports, but if you know nothing about basketball, it means he gets to look really good when you come to his games. Just saying….

Deuce Spade

What he says

"Huh, I've never really thought about it. Um, I guess she's nice and funny, and isn't scared of my past. I'd also want her to be a little like you, Y/N….not that I like you! Well, I like you, not like like you, shit I'm sorry! This isn't sounding any better…"

Who he ends up with

He really means it when he says he wants someone like you. You're one of his first friends, and, in his mind, the person you date/marry should be your best friend. But if it's not you he ends up with, he will probably be attracted to a girl who's book smart, but less street smart. A little "dumb" like him, in a cute kind of way. He likes a cuddler, and maybe a girl who is shorter than him so that he can feel like he's swallowing her whole when he wraps his arms around her. Also, someone who encourages him and helps him with his homework/paperwork.

Riddle Rosehearts

What he says

"I don't have time for a relationship right now….but I think I want someone well behaved who follows the rules- what are you smirking at? Just because you're a rule breaker doesn't mean every girl is. I'd also like her to be in the medical profession. You know, someone who works the same profession as me so we have similar interests."

Who he ends up with

As much as he hates to admit it…he's attracted to rule breakers. Not as bad as Ace obviously, he's not trying to go gray early. But if she says something like "let's have a non herbal tea" when it's time for only herbal tea…damn what a rush. By the time he gets serious with someone, he'll be confident enough in himself to cut ties with his mother, so she has to be strong willed, and willing to live off of a low budget for a while. He'll need someone understanding, who knows he'll have relapses and be too much and too angry sometimes, and she has to be understanding of that, and encouraging of improvement, or he'll live with guilt for the rest of his life.

Trey Clover

What he says

"Someone who's willing to settle down and grow fat and old with me. You're laughing, but I'm going to be running my parents bakery, and feeding people is my love language. Speaking of, you better finish off that slice of cake before the others steal it."

Who he ends up with

Trey isn't that picky. He really means it when he says he wants someone to get old and fat with. That's his dream. Running a bakery with his wife by his side, and growing old together as your own kids grow up and bring home their own spouses. But he also wants a girl he can blindside with his sadistic side. Someone who'll enjoy that side of him, but also someone who easily forgets it's there. It makes things more fun for him.

Cater Diamond

What he says

"Ha ha someone trendy and totes hot. Someone totally cammable. Aw, are you jealous? Don't worry, you'll always be my fave girlie, even if you're not the girl I love."

Who he ends up with

Cater wants someone who won't disappear when he looks away. Yes, if she's "cammable" that's the first thing he's looking for, but when all is said and done, if she seems like she's going to be flaky, he won't take it too seriously either, as a defense mechanism. He needs a girl with mental endurance, because he's going to spend the beginning of the relationship trying to scare her off. Not that he wants to, he just needs to know he won't be left alone like he usually is. He is going to be attracted to a girl who humors his trends and magicam addiction, but who also sees through him. Someone balanced. She sees the real Cay Cay, but she's also willing to be his "trophy wife" online.

Savannaclaw

Jack Howl

What he says

"Oh, I uh, well someone who can keep up on a run with me I guess…"

Who he ends up with

Jack says he wants someone who can work out with him. And he would really be happy if he had a girl who was as active as him…but he'd also be happy with a curvy girl. He gets blushy thinking about holding someone soft and plush against his firm muscles. But he's flexible. In the end he won't choose his future wife based on appearance and activity. Wolf beastmen mate for life, so the main thing he is looking for is loyalty. Loyalty, and someone who would want to raise lots of kids with him. As long as you have those two traits, nothing else really matters to him.

Ruggie Bucchi

What he says

"Girlfriends are expensive, shihihi. Tell you what, you find me a lady with sticky fingers, and we'll eat the rich together."

Who he ends up with

This is a deflection. Ruggie loves the idea of a busy business wife, while he is a trophy househusband, cooking and cleaning for his high powered lady. He wants a strong woman who will scratch his ears and tell him he did such a good job! Then he'll draw her a bath, and massage her feet as she tells him about her day, then they'll snuggle and make out until they fall asleep…that's the dream anyway. He can be a little worker bee until you rise through the ranks, which you will, Ruggie has absolute faith in you. You guys can rob people early on if you have to. In short…Ruggie wants a dommish woman who will call him a good boy and keep him well fed.

Leona Kingscholar

What he says

"Body pillow"

"That's not-"

"Body pillow"

Who he ends up with

He's going to be attracted to a strong woman who whips his ass into shape. Someone who says, "Hey bitch, you're going to therapy, cause I love you and want you to be happy!" And then she actually makes him go. And when he does go, she rewards him with snuggles, and soft kisses. He wants a woman who's never scared of him, who's self assured, and is certain and vocal about her feelings for him.

Also, she has to accept that nighttime is when she's a body pillow. That's an absolute must.

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

What he says

"Why do you wish to know? Are you attempting to reach my standards? Ha ha, let's see. A woman who is ethereal, who is willing to dress stunningly, and sit in my lap when I make deals, so that competitors can see what a high value man I am."

Who he ends up with

If that didn't make you want to throw up 🤢. He'll be attracted to someone who makes him feel beautiful in subtle ways. He knows how easy it is to spin a verbal web of lies. But there's some things you can't fake. Like allowing someone to rest on your lap, and caressing their hair. Or squeezing someone's hand gently when you have to let go. Or pressing a kiss to someone's cheek after you help them straighten their outfit. It's the soft romantic moments that'll speak to Azul when he finds his love. Aside from that, he's not looking for anything in particular. Just someone who makes him feel loved and beautiful.

Jade Leech

What he says

"Fu fu who's to say? Perhaps you are the woman of my dreams. Or not."

Who he ends up with

She's a woman who can see through him. She's someone who never compares him or confuses him for his twin. She's smart. Very smart. She eats his mushrooms and goes on hikes with him. She is patient with Floyd. What Jade is looking for….is female Jade. Someone like that is the only one who can truly keep up with him.

Floyd Leech

What he says

"Aw Shrimpy! Are you worried? Don't worry, whoever she is, I'll still squeeze ya!"

Who he ends up with

He's looking for someone fun. That's his only criteria. At least that's what he says. He can't be sure if he loves her because she's fun, or if she's fun because he loves her. In that sense, it's sort of a soulmate situation for Floyd. Whatever will be will be. He'll just know.

…

Also she has to be squeezable.

Scarabia

Kalim al Asim

What he says

"I love everybody!"

"But-"

"Have some of this ice cream, it's amazing!"

Who he ends up with

He wants someone he can spoil, but he doesn't know that. It's something in his subconscious. He doesn't want things in exchange either. So she has to be someone who is okay with being spoiled, and doesn't feel guilty about it. He's going to be attracted to someone who loves life like him, but also helps to keep him grounded. And if she has a spark of danger in her, oh man, he'll be simping so hard.

Jamil Viper

What he says

"I'm not going to even think about it until my freedom is assured. Kalim has promised, but it would be irresponsible to force someone into servitude with me."

Who he ends up with

Jamil is going to be attracted to a hard worker. Someone who's dedicated, and slightly serious. He's also looking for a girl who will see how hard he works, and pampers him from time to time. He's never been in charge of anything, so he likes being the boss of the household. Not that he doesn't see her as an equal! On the contrary, he wants his marriage to be a partnership. But the idea of having somewhere where he is king is definitely something he likes. She can rule the house from as well. They can split the time they rule over the household. They'll take turns being served and pampered.

Pomefiore

Epel Felmier

What he says

"Um, she knows I'm the boss. Wait, that came out misogynistic, sorry I jus mean she knows I'm manly and can support her an all that."

Who he ends up with

He says he wants a cutsie tiny housewife, so that he can be the manly man at the manliest job for mans. He really will be attracted to any girl who doesn't doubt his masculinity, nor call him cute. Someone who tells him that they feel safe and secure with him. He says he wants a short wife. But he's fine with any size or shape as long as she sees him as someone who can care for her.

Rook Hunt

What he says

"Mademoiselle trickster, I can find beauty in every woman."

Who he ends up with

What he says is actually true. He can and will fall in love with every kind of woman. It's hard to say who he will tie himself to, in the end. It'll be someone who he heavily bonds with and imprints on. It's a lot like with Floyd. Essentially a soulmate situation.

Vil Schoenheit

What he says

"Hm. Why do you want to know, potato? I suppose she's professional, and beautiful, and cares about her image enough that she doesn't cause a scandal."

Who he ends up with

The thing about Vil is, he's not that far off from Rook in his take on beauty. He doesn't so much believe in conventional beauty, or societal beauty standards. He knows everyone has an individual definition of health and beauty. When he says he's looking for a beautiful woman, he's looking for someone who's willing to reach her full potential. Or, more accurately, to allow him to help her reach her full potential. Vil never admits it, but he adores pampering and styling people. His love language is helping people look their best. So if she's someone who knows herself enough to know what style she likes, he'll appreciate it, and take up the mantle of doing the hard work, ie making outfits, styling hair and makeup, formulating skin care etc. TLDR, he wants a confident self possessed woman he can dress like a doll, and show off.

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud

What he says

"-------------" mutes ipad.

In his head, he doesn't think any woman would ever love him. But his dream woman is a sexy anime cat girl.

Who he ends up with

What he'll be attracted to is someone who is patient, speaks at a reasonable volume, and is assertive enough to make him leave his room. Essentially, winning Idia's heart is a siege. You'll have to starve him out. That's the patience bit. The reasonable volume comes from him being easily scared by loud noises. Assertive enough to make him leave his room…well that speaks for itself. He wants to believe he can be part of the outside world, and the girl he will fall for will be willing to show it to him.

Diasomnia

Sebek Zigvolt

What he says

"She is someone of noble bearing, who shall help me defend my liege!"

Who he ends up with

He'll fall for a woman who is stronger, mentally, physically, etc., than him. A woman who can put him in his place. A woman who speaks, and it makes him shut up, and sit pretty. She's assertive, and can come off as abrasive to others but to Sebek? Sevens, he'd die for a smidgen of her affection.

Silver

What he says

"I don't think it's worth it to try and define the girl I'll fall in love with. There are so many wonderful women, and my father always told me that love is the greatest mystery in this world. Who's to say who I'll fall in love with?"

Who he ends up with

Silver will fall for someone soft. The entire romance will be soft. Soft caresses in the moonlight. Soft kisses in the morning. Soft fingers gently intertwining. She'll be empathetic about his sleep condition, never blaming him since it's not his fault. She'll be gentle with his animal friends. She'll be sweet and kind and the very image of a Disney Princess. I'm picturing Aurora, actually. How ironic.

Lilia Vanrouge

What he says

"Fu Fu Fu wouldn't you like to know."

Who he ends up with

Lilia can and has fallen for every kind of woman. He's lived a long time. He's had the time to romance lots of women. What he'd probably fall for in this stage of his life, is someone he can tease, and play around with, but who is also ready to settle down a little bit. Someone who enjoys the little things in life. He's getting a little old. He wants to build onto his family that he already has. Silver can stand to have three or ten more siblings, right?

Malleus Draconia

What he says

"You."

Who he ends up with

You.

....

Tag list-@shytastemakerthing @stygianoir @leonia0 @lleoll @eccedentesiast-sapphic

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 1 month

Text

Omega Ours - Part 1 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader| Short Series 2.7k

After fighting your way out of every potential mating offered to you, your village sends you off with the High Lord. Rhysand, tired of dealing with the Alphas living in the House of Wind, gifts you to Cassian and Nesta in the hopes that it'll settle all three of you down.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, forced proximity, d/s themes, only one bed (and only one chaise), lots of tropey tropes! No use of YN but liberal use of pet names.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 5 faveourite tropes (Omegaverse, only one bed, forced proximity, sort of insta-love)

Part 2 will be posted on the 13 (Free day!) follow @illyrianlibrary for updates ❤️

Part 2 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

The only way to describe the couple stood before you was - handsome.

The High Lord and Lady who’d brought you here were beautiful, elegant. But this couple could only be described as handsome, strong, Alpha.

You knew them, of course. General Cassian of the Nightcourt and his mate, Lady Nesta. Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death, they’d called them in the camps that circled the Illyrian villages like pilot fish on a shark.

“I’ve brought you a present,” Rhysand drawled, pointing at you. “Well, it’s a favour and a present. The last unmated omega of the season. She's from the Western Isles, I thought it might help to tamp down your behaviour if you two had a project.” He grinned and you turned to look at Nesta and Cassian again.

It was true, you’d rejected every mate offered to you, bitten some of them, in your desperation to get away, and that’s how you’d lost your freedom. Fighting the boys from the village was one thing, fighting an Illyrian was another. They’d hauled you into the camp in front of the High Lord on his last visit and demanded compensation.

Rhysand, ever flush with jewels and gold, had paid them and then had a set of cuffs and leathers made for you. Nightcourt black velvet, red stitching and silver buckles. But restraints were still restraints, no matter how soft they felt against your wrists and ankles. He’d had new clothes made for you as well, traditional sheer panels of matching blood red that hung in gossamer curtains down your legs, pooling around you as you were forced to your knees in front of the Lady and General.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Nesta studied her nails, her air bored but her eyes kept flickering towards you.

“Come now, Nesta, we both know you and Cassian caused quite the stir the last time you were both in heat.”

You were right then, you could smell it on them anyway, that raw power and strength that designated them as Alpha.

“Still - you want us to take care of your problems?” Nesta huffed.

“Of course not, she’s a gift, for you and Cass, if you happen to tame her enough that she stops mauling my men then that’s a bonus.”

You looked between them, it was undeniable how attractive they were. Better than the mud caked idiots from the village at least, but you still railed against the hand that dragged you back to your feet.

Cassian kept his hand under your elbow, pinching your cheeks with his other hand. “Come on, Nes. She’s cute, isn’t she?” He angled your face up towards his mate.

Nesta shrugged one shoulder and you snarled, snapping at Cassian’s fingers.

“Feisty,” he gave a deep chuckle, “I like that, that’s how Nes and I got together.” He hauled you over his shoulder, your legs and arms dangling, the panels of your dress slipping dangerously.

“Put me down!” You beat your fists on his back.

“Should have thought of that before you tried to bite me,” he teased, jostling you.

You scowled at Nesta, who followed, laughing, through the halls of the palace and then tried using the only knowledge you had about the Illyrians. You reached out and grabbed his wing, squeezing as tightly as you could.

He growled back, the sound travelling up through his chest into yours, vibrating your very core.

“You want to play rough? Good.”

Cassian shouldered a heavy door open and suddenly the sweeping corridor was gone and a dark, warm room wrapped itself around you.

The walls were an oxblood red with thick velvet curtains that lay heavily in front of the eternally open windows. The soft jasmine breeze that circulated through the house was mixed with the cleaner scent of mountain air and the crackling of a fire, rich and inviting.

The general set you down, his gaze travelling slowly down your figure. He clenched his jaw and then instantly turned to his mate, cupping her cheeks in his large hands and kissing her roughly. She growled in response, leaning into his embrace and allowing him to lift her against his body. You watched as he carried her across the room to an open archway, almost hidden behind a large tapestry, and then they vanished again.

Tentatively, as much as you could with the thin chain connecting your ankles, you crept across the room to the curtain, now brushed back and curling heavily on the polished floor.

Nesta and Cassian were tangled on the bed, the heady scent of their arousal lay thick in the air, the bedsheets already rumpled as if they’d been interrupted before, the room in disarray.

On both bedside tables there were stacks of books of various genres, a pitcher of water on one and dagger on the other.

“Either come in or go,” Nesta groused from the bed, hair messy, one of Cassian’s hands still tangled in the long golden-brown strands.

“Play nice, Nes.” The general laughed, biting at Nesta’s earlobe. “You can join us or you can sleep,” he said over his shoulder.

Sure enough there was a small chaise made up with blankets at the end of the bed. You shuffled over, and fell heavily onto the soft cushions listening to the sound of their love making. Each grunt and moan made you press your thighs together harder. Each stifled sigh had your hands twitching, itching for something more. You may have rejected every attempt at a mating, but you weren’t completely without feeling, without desire and needs and lust.

You lifted your hands to cover your ears, the chain between them digging into the bridge of your nose, and fell into a confused sleep.

You awoke to the sound of moving bodies and cloth dragging on the floor.

“She’s asleep, let her rest, Cas.”

“What if she’s cold?” The footsteps came closer and you tensed on instinct. The steps stopped, but a gentle weight floated down on you, a large cotton blanket, awash with their scent, settled.

“I’m going to wash,” Nesta’s voice faded as she walked away but there was no other movement.

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was loud in your ear, closer than you’d expected and you jumped again, almost sliding from the chaise. Cassian’s arm caught you, tight around your waist and his bareskin was so warm against your own. You cracked one eye open and looked around the room as best you could with his wings blocking out the faint candlelight.

His arm was speckled with tiny scars that twinkled against his tan skin, the hair that decorated his forearm was as dark as the long tendrils that brushed over his shoulders and this close, his chin almost resting on your own arm, he smelt heavenly. That mixture of his own scent and Nesta’s even stronger in his proximity and, no doubt, enhanced by their earlier activities.

“If you want, you can borrow some clothes.” His voice was a sleepy rumble and you resisted the urge to let your omega instincts take over and push yourself back into his chest, seek out that warmth, that comfort - but you didn’t respond.

The sound of running water in the other room stopped, replaced with the gentle pad of Nesta’s footsteps and then she was in front of you. Surrounded by them again you had to fight back every urge to give in to her wicked mouth, her lips plump and kiss bitten.

“We’ve left you some things on the chair, choose what you will. If you want to join us on the bed, you can.” Nesta moved away taking Cassian with her and you assumed from the gentle rustle of sheets they were back in bed.

The chair that sat opposite their grand fireplace was strewn with clothes, silky looking negligees and billowing linen shirts, some cotton leggings and a pair of woollen socks.

Waiting a moment, hoping they weren’t looking, you rose from the chaise and rushed for the chair. The translucent dress the High Lord had had you wear left your skin cold and bare, exposed and vulnerable. Cassian’s shirt was a welcome relief, covering your body from view, although the two slits in the back for his wings did feel slightly odd. The socks were warm and fluffy, long enough to reach almost to your knees. Redressed, you turned to return to your chaise and tugged the blanket up to your chin.

You didn’t really want to spend the entire night there, but you also refused to give in to the ridiculousness of the situation. No one chose your mate, or mates, for you and you’d rather sleep on the tiny chaise that allow anyone to take that choice from you.

Thankfully, Nesta and Cassian had turned away, the Illyrian’s large wings spread over the bed,. Shielding his mate from view? Or stopping her from following you around the room with her silver stare? You weren’t sure, but you were grateful as you closed your eyes.

It was only as you were falling asleep that you realised you were snuggled into the shirt, inhaling Cassian’s scent, and by then it was too late, you were tumbling into your dreams.

The next morning Cassian and Nesta were gone, but someone had left a tray of food, a pot of tea and a stack of books on the table. The doors to the balcony were open and the jasmine wind blew the curtains back so invitingly you couldn’t resist.

You were halfway through one of the books they’d left, something by Sellyn Drake that had far more smut in it than you were anticipating. A slice of buttered toast was stuck halfway to your mouth as you stared transfixed at the page, when the door opened. Cassian held the door for Nesta, taking a long sword from her hand and placing it on the table that was perpetually strewn with weapons. His own sword and daggers followed and the two of them began to strip out of their leathers.

There had been a rumour that Nesta trained alongside the Lord of Bloodshed and the Shadowsinger, trained with other women as well, but you hadn’t thought to believe it until now.

Her leathers were tight against skin, a sheen of sweat making her sparkle, her long hair was tied up in what was now a messy ponytail and, most surprising of all, she was smiling broadly at Cassian. He returned the smile, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss, his hands wandering down to the buckles and clasps that held her fighting leathers together.

Cassian looked equally as powerful, his own armour dark against his tanned skin, his tattoos flowing under the leather before appearing again at his collar bone and trailing over his shoulders towards the vast wings at his back. You set the book down slowly, the lust filled scene already had you feeling hot under Cassian’s shirt even before they appeared.

The movement caught his eye and he turned, taking Nesta with him and pinning her against his chest. They way they looked at you, like the most delicious prey, had you pressing your legs together. You wouldn’t give in to this, especially not when it was exactly what that smug prick of a High Lord wanted.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he cooed, “Would you like to join us?”

It was Nesta who held her hand out, crooking her finger to coax you forward. “We’re going to bathe, the tub is large enough for three, come.” It was more a demand than a question and, though you longed to see how far down Cassian’s tattoos went and how Nesta would look covered in bubbles, you resisted again.

With a shake of your head you went back to your book, trying to ignore the sound of them together through the wall.

You fell into a rhythm, the three of you. Nesta and Cassian continued as they were, training, working in the library and attending meetings, and inviting you to join them whenever they were together.

Your nights on the chaise were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but you refused to be worn down by their requests, preferring to stay silent and read alone either on the balcony or by the fire. No amount of reading could drown out the sound of their love making, though. If you could call it that, judging by the bruises both of them sported proudly and the way their headboard banged against the stone wall.

Despite your protests their allure was difficult to ignore, their playful banter, the care and attention they showed each other, even the way they whispered in bed, dissecting the day's events and, on a few occasions, discussing you.

This only happened when you were pretending to sleep heavily, breathing slow and steady as you wished for dreams to take you.

“Nes, did you see the way my shirt fit her today, rolling up her thighs-” Cassian had made a deep, guttural noise, only to be shushed by Nesta.

“Yes, Cas, stop, she’s right over there.” Nesta hissed in return.

“I know, God, she’s so fucking close, don’t you think she smells good?”

“You know I do.” The sheets rustled and you heard Nesta whimper as a wave of arousal flooded you. They could smell you, you knew it and you couldn’t stop it.

Sleeping in their room, bathed in their scent every day, surrounded by their things, it was like a huge nest and the longer you lingered here the more you wanted to give in and climb into their bed, to be between them and allow them to care for you.

You knew something had changed when you woke up drenched in sweat. As usual, Nesta and Cassian had already left the room, your breakfast arranged in its spot, clothes laid out for you. They’d started adding some new things, items that smelt like neither of them, clean linen and lavender, but you were still drawn to their items the most. Perhaps, it was the way they smiled when they saw you cuddling into one of Cassian’s shirts or standing on the balcony in one of Nesta’s dresses. But you refused to confront that feeling.

Despite your long, cold, bath you still felt hot and uncomfortable. It was mid way through stripping off your linen trousers that Nesta reappeared. She moved with a preternatural grace that you were sure existed well before her sister’s ascent to High Lady. A smoothness to each turn of her hand, or extension of her arm, she made walking seem like a dance and you were transfixed.

Nesta stopped as soon as she saw you, her nostrils flared, almost imperceptibly.

“Are you okay?” she asked in that cool, silvery voice.

“Yes,” your voice felt hoarse. You barely spoke and had gone days without saying anything to either of them, merely existing in their presence. But now, locked by her gaze, there was no escaping.

“You seem -” she weighed her words carefully, “unwell.”

“I can assure you, I’m fine.” You took a half step towards the balcony doors, hoping the breeze would cool your skin.

Nesta hummed, surveying you from head to toe. “I’d feel better if you got into bed.”

You knew this was as persuasive as Nesta could be, a simple request made in the lowest of tones, an argument not worth having.

“I-”

“The bed.” She crossed the room swiftly and turned you towards the large, velvet draped bed that took up a large portion of the room. Since your first entrance into Nesta and Cassian’s suite, you’d done your best to avoid even looking at it. Now there was no escape.

Your hands were shaking, a tingling heat rising from your spine and coiling in your stomach. On this occasion, just once, you’d listen to her. “Fine.” With great difficulty, you pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor. You were so tired. When had you become so tired?

Nesta’s deft fingers grasped your chin, holding you still so she could look at your pupils, large and frightened. “Get in bed and go to sleep,” she insisted, and you obeyed.

Part 2

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megalony · 3 months

Text

You Need To Choose

This is an Evan Buckley imagine, requested by anon. I love writing tropes like this so thank you for sending it in and I hope you will all like it. Feedback always makes my day.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem@sj-thefanthefan@hellsdragon@im-an-adult-ish@crazylittlethingg@allauraleigh@onceuponadetectivedemigod@ceres27@avyannadawn@sleepylunarwolf@coverupps@justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz

Buck Masterlist

Summary: Evan saves a woman who then becomes very attached to him. While he is at work, she visits his home and takes his pregnant wife hostage.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh God, why was she back again?

Her smile did something to unnerve Evan, although he wasn't altogether sure why. It was the way she looked at him, like there was some kind of aura around him that nobody else had. It unsettled him, it made him panicked and uneasy and unsure about how to act or what to do.

Evan could feel his hands suddenly start to drag up and down his thighs in an anxious habit that reminded him of (Y/n). He didn't realise how many of her anxious traits he had too until he noticed the way (Y/n) would fidget or cling to him when she was nervous or ready to go home if they were out somewhere.

"Hi Buck,"

He fought hard to smile and try to be polite. It wouldn't be kind if he stared at her blankly or let his unease become visible.

"Hi… are you okay? Can I help you with something?"

Evan tucked his hands into his pockets as he stood in front of her but kept a safe distance of three feet between them.

This marked the third time Cara had come by the station and the second time, Evan had been lucky enough to be out on a call. She was only stopping by to talk to him, she didn't want to see any of the team. She asked for him the first time she popped round and she came to say thank you.

It had been very sweet, not many people willingly came by the station to thank any of the team when they helped people out of bad situations. They said thank you on the scene but never followed up and it was nice for Evan to see Cara was doing well. He often wondered about the people they saved, if they were okay, if they were happy or struggling. If they remembered the people who came to help them.

The second time, Evan had been uneasy when Chimney told him Cara came by again but left when she was told Evan was out.

Now she was back again, and Evan couldn't see why. She had thanked him the first time and he told her it was his job, he didn't do this for praise although it was lovely of her to stop and say thank you.

She had been trapped in a crumbling building when the team turned up at the scene and Cara had been seconds away from crashing through a window and falling to her death when Eddie and Evan got there. Evan went down on a rope and managed to grab her before she fell. He could see how it would shake her up and make her grateful, but he couldn't see why she would come back again and again to thank him when she didn't have to.

"I'm a lot better now, thank you. I thought I'd stop by and give you these."

Evan had been preoccupied wondering why she was here and missed the tuppaware box she had in her hands. When he leaned forward, he realised she had made some sort of cake.

The team got a lot of food, mainly chocolates or baked goods to say thank you and that was usually around Christmas or Easter.

Evan wasn't used to getting gifts from the people they saved, a polite thank you and a hug was always more than enough for him. He got enough gifts from the team and his family on special occasions. The last gift he got was (Y/n)'s gift on his birthday telling him he was going to be a dad. That had given him a whole new high he never felt before.

"Thank you," He tried his best to smile and took the box when she suddenly thrust it into his hands. "You didn't have to do that."

"It's the least I could do for my hero."

He could feel his smile fading away when she reached up and wrapped an arm around his neck to pull him into a hug.

He usually gave small hugs on the scene after saving someone, not weeks later when they came by to say thank you. He wasn't sure what to do. It wouldn't do him good to stand like an uncomfortable statue but he also didn't want to hug her as if they were good friends or give her the wrong impression. Evan was big on hugs and physical contact but only with close friends and family.

He was always messing about with Bobby and Eddie but they were more like family. Evan didn't do so well with strangers.

"Okay… take care." His smile was definitely more forced this time and looked more like a grimace when Cara finally let him go when she seemed to realise he wasn't hugging her back.

It wouldn't be professional to hug her back. He hadn't done anything to warrant a hug, he saved her almost three weeks ago and she said thank you on the scene. She wasn't a friend, she wasn't family or someone Evan knew well enough to have physical contact with. And he was married. He didn't want nor need to be hugging her.

As soon as she left the station, Evan turned around and let his shoulders deflate. He sighed and gritted his teeth as he looked over towards Hen who was checking the inventory in the ambulance.

"What'd you get?"

"Cake, I think." He hoped.

"Taking it home for (Y/n)?" She poked her tongue out between her teeth and grinned widely but the grin started to slip when Evan shook his head and frowned like she'd just insulted him. "You get given cake- something your extremely pregnant wife loves, and you're not taking it home for her?"

"Not when I don't know who's made it." Evan brought the tuppaware box up to his eyes and squinted through the plastic. "I don't know what's in it, I'm not risking giving that to (Y/n). Do you want it?"

He could see the wheels turning in Hen's mind and she hummed, pursing her lips as she suddenly agreed with him.

It was a lovely gesture, but Evan didn't know Cara. He didn't know if she would lace the cake like one woman had done with the brownies she sent in. Evan didn't know if she would drug the cake or add some strange ingredient. It was too risky to take home to (Y/n) when Evan got a bad vibe from Cara as it was. He wasn't giving her food baked by a stranger.

(Y/n) was nine months pregnant, Evan wouldn't risk giving her something that might make her sick. He'd rather play it safe and buy her cake on the way home from shift.

"Erm, maybe not."

Evan nodded her way before he walked towards the stairs and on his way past, he tossed the box in the bin. It was a kind gesture, but he wasn't eating it and Bobby had rules. No food or drink to be accepted from strangers. It didn't matter how kind they were or what lovely intentions they had, no one should accept food. Only close friends and family could bake goods and bring them into the station.

And something told Evan not to try that cake.

***

"What are you doing?"

A gasp burned past (Y/n)'s lips and her left hand clutched the curtain rail while she flapped her right hand out. She grabbed Evan's shoulder to steady herself when she suddenly felt his hands tightly digging into her hips and his chest press up against her hips and bum.

"Evan don't do that!" She bashed her hand against his chest before she moved back to clutching his shoulder when she wobbled.

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she scowled down at her husband while he pressed his chin against her hip and stared up at her with that stern expression that made her weak at the knees. She slowly let go of the curtain rail and shuffled around on the stool until she was fully facing Evan.

Her hands held his shoulders as she hunched over in a silent plea for him to help her down.

"The curtain came down again, I was putting it back up." She mumbled when Evan locked his arms in place and kept her stood high up above him. She watched him tilt his head forward and press his lips against her bump while his hands curved round from her hips to hold the back of her waist.

He let her lean her weight down onto him and slowly eased her down until she was safely back on her feet. (Y/n)'s hands stayed on Evan's shoulders and she tilte dher head back to look up at him.

"And you thought giving me a heart attack was worth it?" His eyes darted between (Y/n) and the curtain until she leaned forward and buried her face in his chest.

He peered into the nursery and saw her standing on a stool, leaning heavily on the window. And from his angle, it looked like she was unsteady and about to fall. Evan didn't need that kind of panic when he was already on edge as it was. He had one more week of work and (Y/n) was bang on nine months now. Her due date was next week and Evan was panicking that she was going to go into labour while he was at work.

He didn't need to walk round the house and see her daring to stand on a stool like that and risk a fall.

"I've done it now, I was fine until you scared me."

"Well next time just tell me rather than risking a fall." Evan was taller, he could reach the curtain rail without straining or going on his tiptoes. (Y/n) didn't have to do it by herself when she could just tell him and he would sort it.

Her hands tightened on his shoulders and she tilted her head back so her chin was tucked into the middle of his chest. The way she batted her lashes at him made Evan's chest tighten and she knew she had won him over when his stern look faded into a soft smile.

"How do you feel today?" He let his hand slide down to cradle her stomach and his head tilted to the side. They both knew what he was actually asking.

(Y/n) looked down and let her fingers glide down Evan's arm until she cupped his wrist.

"Just kicking, they're not coming today. You can relax, baby Buckley is staying put for today." Her thumb smoothed across the back of Evan's hand which she moved to the lower right side of her stomach so he could feel a small kick.

She wasn't feeling any strange movements or feeling the baby turning round yet. No more lower back pain than usual and no dull aches or cramps anywhere that would imply labour. They still had a few more days or even a week left. Evan could go to work calm, knowing he wasn't going to miss anything today.

"Good. You're not allowed to go into labour without me."

"I know, but I'm not holding out much longer. The baby might not be ready, but I am."

"Just three more shifts, baby girl. Wait three more shifts, for me, please?" Evan lifted his hand to cup her chin and tilted her head back while he smoothed his thumb across her lower lip that he pinched to watch her take a sharp breath.

He knew (Y/n) was getting restless. He hadn't known her take so many baths as she had in the last three months, but it was where she felt most comfortable and where the baby seemed to settle and sleep. (Y/n) was tired. She thought she would of had the baby by now, she thought she wouldn't make it to her due date. But the baby seemed very comfy and cosy and (Y/n) was getting fed up of waiting.

Evan, on the other hand, was somehow containing his excitement. He had agreed with Bobby to work right up until (Y/n)'s due date because it gave him an extra two weeks off after the baby was born. Rather than taking time off in the lead up to the birth. He would rather work until (Y/n) had the baby and then he could have a few straight weeks off to be home and help her with the baby.

He had barely taken any annual leave this year so he had a lot stored up that he could take when the baby was born in case (Y/n) or the baby were ill or needed him. Or in case he had a hard time going back to work, he had a feeling he wouldn't be able to settle back at work and leave his family at home.

"Sweet-talker," (Y/n) muttered quietly before she pushed up on her toes and pressed a kiss to his lips.

He enticed a gasp from her lips when he sank his teeth into her bottom lip so he could swipe his tongue past her lips. (Y/n) could feel his hand tightening in the back of her shirt and he tugged her closer until she was tightly meshed against his front.

"You'll be late."

"Hm," He grinned and panted against her lips as his nose brushed against hers until she shook her head when it started to tickle. "You call me if you need me, even if you just feel sick. I've always got my phone on me now and if you can't get hold of me, call Bobby."

"I promise." Her lips attached to the side of his neck and she curled her arms around his shoulders to pull him down to her. Her face buried into his shoulder and she could feel his chest vibrating with a chuckle.

(Y/n) seemed to be promising Evan every shift that she would call him if she needed anything. She never did. Maddie was always popping round to check in and make sure she was alright when she knew Evan was at work and so far (Y/n) had been fine. But she knew Evan had cleared it with Bobby for (Y/n) to be able to get hold of him because if she needed him, he had to be able to answer.

Her hands trailed to his shoulders and she leaned back when Evan bent forward and pressed his lips against her stomach. His hand slipped beneath her shirt to dance across her skin because he knew it made her shimmy and squirm.

"Be good. Don't make an appearance until daddy comes home."

When Evan felt a kick near his lips, he grinned. (Y/n) tangled her fingers through his curls and steadily stroked them towards the back of his head while she rolled her eyes.

"They're definitely going to be a daddy's child."

***

"Hello?" (Y/n) tightened her hand around the door handle and tried to form a calm smile when she opened the door.

She wasn't expecting visitors today, she wasn't even sure that Maddie would stop by today or if she was at work. (Y/n) had been expecting to spend another calm day at home and tuck herself up in bed until Evan came home later on tonight.

(Y/n) didn't recognise the woman on the other side of the door. She had shoulder-length gritty blonde hair that was slightly damp from the hot weather and it made her hair curl and crimp at the ends. She had one hand curled around her bag on her shoulder and the other was planted firmly on her hip.

Whoever she was, she didn't seem happy to see (Y/n) opening the door. Had she gotten the wrong address? Was she looking for a friend or family?

"Who are you?" Her demanding question took (Y/n) by surprise and the smile faded from her lips as she clung a bit tighter to the door. It should be (Y/n) saying that, not whoever this woman was.

"I-"

"Where's Buck, is he home?"

The way she leaned to try and peer around (Y/n) into the house made a shiver crawl down (Y/n)'s spine.

So whoever she was, she clearly had the right address. She was looking for Evan. (Y/n) dared not think why this woman was looking for him, she seemed rather put-out at seeing (Y/n) instead. And the way she was tapping her foot against the doorstep made (Y/n) uneasy, it was like (Y/n) was wasting her time.

"He's at work right now… can I help you? I'm his wife." It seemed to be the wrong thing to say.

(Y/n) rolled her lips together and braced her left hand out on the wall when the woman in front of her took a stumbling step backwards. It was as if (Y/n) had gone and slapped her.

Who was she? How did she know Evan but not know that he was married? He wore a silver band on his ring finger for God's sake, that was a big giveaway. His lockscreen was a picture of them when they were on holiday and his home screen was a more daring picture of (Y/n) that not many people saw or noticed.

Evan didn't hide the fact that he was married, he told just about anyone and he had been high as a kite these last few months at the notion of being a father. His friends were mainly the people he worked with and the few friends he knew from college. All of whom (Y/n) had met and gone out with on quite a few occasions.

Their circle of friends was close-knit, small and secure. And this woman was not a part of that circle.

"His- no, he's not married." Cara's hand tightened on her hip and she tried to smirk, but the look faded again when (Y/n) simply frowned.

"Excuse me?"

(Y/n) could feel her annoyance beginning to build up like a fire ebbing away at her and growing with each passing second. She was tired, she wanted to go to bed and lie down and dwindle away the hours until Evan came home. The last thing (Y/n) wanted was an argument on her own doorstep because some derranged woman had turned up out of the blue.

"Who are you?"

"I told you, I'm his wife. He isn't here, do you want me to call him?" (Y/n) wasn't playing this silly game. She didn't have to prove that she was married to Evan. It was up to this woman to explain what she wanted Evan for and either call him herself or leave.

(Y/n) leaned her weight on the wall when the baby started to move and press down on her hips.

But when she watched the way the stranger in front of her suddenly stared down at her stomach, (Y/n) felt like wishing the ground to swallow her whole. She could feel the daggers burning into her stomach and the woman's face turned a dark shade of red like the epitome of anger was right here in front of her.

The silence was unbearable, until (Y/n) strained hard to hear what this woman was suddenly muttering under her breath. Then, (Y/n) was suddenly desperate for the silence to come back.

"Pregnant? You're having his kid? You can't be. You can't be."

It was like those were the only words this woman could comprehend and it made (Y/n) shiver.

Was this the lady who kept turning up at the station? Evan mentioned a woman kept stopping by even after she thanked him and the team for saving her. (Y/n) didn't think anything of it because Evan didn't seem to elaborate or make much of a fuss.

"I think you need to leave now."

"I'm not going anywhere!"

(Y/n) shuddered and quickly backed up when the woman smashed her hand out into the door and slammed it so violently it hit the wall and rebounded into (Y/n)'s arm. She felt a bolt of electricity shooting down her elbow towards her hand that spasmed in pain but she swallowed down a cry.

There was no time for (Y/n) to try and slam the door shut, let alone think about locking the door to keep herself and her baby safe.

Before she could move, the woman was over the threshold and pushing her way into the house.

(Y/n) tried to bash her hands out but she recoiled her hands to her chest with a gasp when something sharp caught the side of her wrist and burned down her arm.

She had a knife. A swiss army knife, to be exact.

It was a red rectangular plastic with a lot of various sized blades tucked away and even a thin set of scissors attached. (Y/n) didn't see her take that out of her bag, she moved far too quickly and it was very unsettling to know this woman carried one around with her in her bag.

"Where is he?!"

"I- I told you, he's at work- please stop. Why do you want to see him?" (Y/n) tried to swipe away the small trickle of blood from her wrist but she lashed her left hand out again when the woman moved the knife near her stomach. She wasn't going to harm the baby. (Y/n) wouldn't let her.

"I want him! He's mine- he saved me. We've been out on dates, bet you didn't know that."

It took all (Y/n) had not to roll her eyes or make a sarcastic sound. As if she would truly believe Evan could be the way he was around her and then go behind her back with someone else. He wouldn't be this clingy and attached to (Y/n) if he really was going out with someone else and he wouldn't be so excited about having their baby if he wanted to leave (Y/n).

She knew her husband and she knew he was as devoted to her as she was to him. Everyone at the station was always telling her that. Clearly this woman had either been reading the signals wrong, or she had been living in a fantasy that had just broken.

"He isn't here-"

"So call him and get him here!"

When the knife moved closer to her stomach, (Y/n) backed up into the lounge and nodded. Her hands started to tremble as she turned and looked around for her phone. This woman had to be derranged. She clearly didn't have Evan's number or she would have called him herself and unless Evan had a secret phone he wasn't telling (Y/n) about, he couldn't be having an affair.

No one nowadays had affairs where they only talked in person or through the post. This woman didn't have Evan's number, she had no way of contacting him and it was clear she had never been to the house before. Her fantasy was unravelling because she was realising Evan had a life and a family that she wasn't part of.

(Y/n) slowly pointed to her phone and picked it up just as she felt the knife press against the side of her abdomen. She couldn't make any sudden movements unless she wanted to risk harming the baby.

"H-he might not be able to answer, if he's out on a call…" (Y/n)'s fingers trembled as she unlocked her phone.

Her lips pressed together in a thin line when she looked at her home screen. Evan, lying in bed with one hand tangled in his hair and a cheesy grin on his face as he squinted up at the camera.

Her thumb hovered over Evan's icon at the bottom of her phone where two hearts surrounded 'hubby'.

"Either he answers, or he truly doesn't love you. He wouldn't leave you alone ready to pop without a way for you to contact him, would he?"

It didn't feel safe to tell this woman that they had protocols and plans in place for that kind of event. If Evan couldn't answer the phone, (Y/n) was supposed to ring Bobby. If he didn't answer, she had the fire station emergency line where someone at the station would answer and they could radio through to Evan. He would get (Y/n)'s message either way, but right now, she needed her husband to answer the phone.

God knows what this woman would do if he didn't pick up.

"What do I tell him?" She couldn't risk getting a knife to the stomach if she said the wrong thing or said something this lady didn't want her to say. (Y/n) needed to know what to do.

"Tell him to come home. Tell him Cara's here and she needs to see him, if he doesn't… I think you know what will happen."

(Y/n) let herself slump down on the sofa as she clicked Evan's icon and pressed the phone against her ear. Her free hand tangled in her hair before she moved to press the back of her hand against her mouth to stop herself from crying. But she couldn't fight off the few tears that silently slipped down the bridge of her nose.

The baby was twisting. Her stomach was flooding with adrenaline. Her body was shaking from the panic. She felt like she was going to be sick. (Y/n) wanted her husband more than ever.

"Sweetheart, everything okay? Is it time, is the baby coming?" Words rambled past Evan's lips and he couldn't see the relief on (Y/n)'s face when he started to speak. He knew she wouldn't ring him unless it was urgent or an emergency.

"Evan, can you come home please?"

"Baby are you okay?" He could hear the wobble in her voice and it made his heart clench. He would come home, she knew he would, but Evan had to know what the situation was and why he was coming home. He had to know if (Y/n) was in labour or if she had fallen or was feeling sick or felt like something was wrong. He needed the specifics.

"Cara's here, a-and she wants to talk to you… it's important, please come home."

"Cara? What's she doing at the house- how does she know where we live?" Evan tangled his fingers in the short curls at the back of his head as he spun round in a circle.

How did she know where he lived? Why had she turned up at his house and not the station?

Oh God, had she been following him to know where he lived?

"Baby are you hurt, please tell me she hasn't hurt you?"

(Y/n) darted her eyes to the left and glanced over at Cara to see if she could hear Evan through the phone or not. She looked a little calmer now but the fire was still burning in her eyes. She was sat on the arm of the sofa next to (Y/n), the army knife still dangerously close to (Y/n)'s stomach just to show her she still meant business.

When she looked up, she noticed Cara had seen her eyes darting down to the knife and something sinister flickered across her face.

"You can tell him I have a knife with me. And I will use it if he doesn't take us seriously."

"Did- she's got a fucking knife?!" Evan's feet moved before he could comprehend what he was doing or where he was going. He needed help. He needed someone to come down to his house with him. He was sure he heard Cara say she would use her knife. He couldn't have her threatening or hurting (Y/n). Especially not when she was so close to giving birth.

"Evan-" (Y/n) shuddered and took a sharp breath when the phone was suddenly snatched from her hand.

"Buck, it's me. Are you on your way?"

"What are you doing at my house? Don't you dare hurt my wife! I swear to God I'll-"

"Enough talk. You need to come home now, so you can choose who you really want to be with. You need to choose the right woman for you."

(Y/n) flinched when she heard Evan begin to yell before the call ended and Cara tossed the phone on the floor. At least Evan would be coming home soon. (Y/n) wouldn't have to be on her own with this unhinged woman for much longer.

For a little while, (Y/n) began rubbing her hands up and down her thighs and across her knees as something to distract herself. She was desperate to run her hands over her stomach and try to settle the baby but she didn't dare draw attention to her stomach. Not when the knife was still held so close to her that she could almost feel it.

Part of her prayed that Evan would bring someone from the station with him, maybe Bobby or perhaps he could get hold of Athena. But she wasn't sure what Cara would do if he turned up with anyone else and if he called the police, everything would get worse.

Both women turned to look at each other when they heard the screeching of tyres in the drive.

It had to be Evan.

"Up. Now."

A shiver rocketed through (Y/n) but she did as requested, she didn't exactly have a choice.

Her lips pressed into a thin line and her hands coiled around her chest when the knife jabbed into the left side of her waist. She could feel the jagged edge beginning to pull the threads on her shirt and if Cara pushed just a little, she would pierce through into (Y/n)'s skin.

Cara's other hand moved to grip the back of (Y/n)'s right arm and she pushed her to stand near the window just as Evan banged his knuckles on the door.

"Baby it's me." The door was open but Evan felt apprehensive about going inside. He didn't know what he was going to be walking into, he had no idea if (Y/n) was okay, if she was going to be in shock or crying or hurt or oddly calm. He didn't know what state Cara would be in either.

"You'd better be alone. No one else comes in or I'll hurt her." Cara tightened her hand on (Y/n)'s arm and kept the knife in place to stop (Y/n) from moving when they both watched Evan walk through the hall.

He had his hands out in front of him to show he wasn't about to do anything. He had Bobby waiting outside in the car, but Evan wasn't stupid enough to tell Cara that. And Bobby was on the phone to Athena who was going to send a squad car down here without lights or sirens so Cara didn't get disgruntled.

"It's just me." Evan walked around the corner and paused near the sofa.

(Y/n) saw the way his eyes darkened and his broad shoulders tensed and lifted up when he looked at them. He lowered his hands down to his sides and clenched his hands into fists while his biceps started to push against his cuffed sleeves.

A quiet 'good' murmured past Cara's lips and she smiled triumphantly while her eyes focused on Evan. He stood behind the sofa and leaned his hands down on the back of the sofa. It showed how tense his arms were and they both heard his neck crack when he twisted his head from side to side.

"Are you okay?" Evan focused his eyes on his wife. She had a cut on her right wrist but it didn't look too extensive. He could see her trembling and tears were traced down her features, but she didn't look too shook up which is all he could ask for right now.

"She's fine."

(Y/n) bit her lip but she nodded, she didn't want Evan to worry, she was as fine as she could be in this situation.

"I'd feel a lot better if you weren't holding a knife to her stomach. Can you put it down, please?" It felt horrid to try and be reasonable and bargain with Cara but Evan needed her to stop holding (Y/n) like that. She was going to hurt her or send her into shock and Evan didn't want either of those things happening.

"No. Sit down, we need to talk."

Evan locked his jaw when Cara gave (Y/n) a sudden push towards the armchair beneath the window. He watched with narrowed eyes as (Y/n) slumped down into the chair and dug her nails into the arm rest while her other hand moved to press against her stomach.

When Cara perched down on the arm rest and kept the knife against (Y/n)'s stomach, Evan moved round and sat on the very edge of the sofa. His knees spread out to the sides and his hands clasped together and hung between his knees.

"You didn't tell me about her." The way Cara inclined her head towards (Y/n) and her upper lip curled in distaste made Evan take a deep breath. "You led me on. I've been to visit you at work, I've been out with you, and no mention of her."

For a second, Evan frowned and looked up at Cara like she had grown a second head.

But then it dawned on him. He'd seen her when he was out at the shop last week. He'd seen her again when he went for a drink with Chimney and Eddie after shift. He even saw her at the gas station walking past while he was filling the jeep. Nothing about those instances had seemed strange because Cara barely spoke to him on each occasion.

Had she thought seeing him out in public meant they were going out together? Did she somehow concoct a whole story with Evan without him realising? Had she been following him instead of simply bumping into him in the street?

"I'm sorry, but you can see why I didn't tell you… I was married before I met you." Evan didn't exactly know what to say, but he knew he had to try and go along with this for a little while. He had to calm Cara down enough to get (Y/n) out the house, then he could sort out this mess. He just needed his family out the way and safe.

"Well now you have a problem. You can't have both of us, so you have to choose."

The knife pressed closer into (Y/n)'s stomach and she flinched. She shuffled as close to the right as she could until she was curled around the arm of the chair with her arms around her chest and her eyes locked on Evan.

"Will you let (Y/n) leave then, so you and me can talk in private?"

He could see she wasn't expecting that response, and Cara didn't know what to do. Evan was trying to get (Y/n) out safely, he wanted her out the house and out of harms way and Cara might be able to see that. But she also couldn't pass up the chance that Evan might just want to pick her and talk this through with her.

"What about the baby? If you leave her, will you leave the baby too?" When Cara jabbed the knife into (Y/n)'s side to prove her point, (Y/n) visibly winced and bit down her cry.

"We can talk about that when (Y/n) leaves us alone," Evan was losing his patience now, he couldn't play pretend for much longer.

Cara seemed to debate it for a few seconds before she nodded but her actions contradicted her gesture when she moved the knife and against (Y/n)'s neck. She seemed to revel in the way (Y/n) whimpered and leaned back and more tears drenched her face.

"Go upstairs. You're not leaving the house to call any of your little friends."

(Y/n) could feel the knife pressing tightly into her neck until it pierced the skin and a small trickle of blood trailed down the side of her neck, but she couldn't move. Her hands stayed locked around the arm of the chair and she closed her eyes for a few seconds. She didn't feel well enough to move. Everything within (Y/n) was telling her to move, to get up and go and keep the baby safe.

She knew Evan could look after himself, he could get the knife off Cara and calm her down until they could get the police here. But she couldn't find the will power to move when her stomach was twisting and she felt sick.

"Sweetheart," Evan chomped down on his tongue when Cara sent him a warning look. "(Y/n), go."

"Are you stupid? Move, he's told you he doesn't want you here anymore."

Tears tumbled down (Y/n)'s face and she stumbled up to her feet when Cara gave her a rough shove between the shoulders and she felt the knife slide down her neck, creating a superficial wound.

(Y/n) could feel her knees quaking but she couldn't stop the small cry from errupting past her lips when she looked down. Both her hands cradled her stomach and she darted her wild, panicked eyes to look over at Evan. She watched the way her husband tensed up and his eyes bulged in their sockets.

Her waters had broken.

"Evan…" She didn't know what she wanted to say or what she wanted her husband to do, but (Y/n) needed Evan to do something.

She cringed and pinned her elbows into her waist when Cara snagged a handful of her hair and pulled her head right back until her neck felt like it had broken.

"You've done this on purpose! This is to make sure he won't leave you- you bitch!"

"Let her go- Cara that's enough!" Evan raised his voice out of instinct and bolted up from the sofa when he saw the knife move near (Y/n)'s stomach. He couldn't let her do anything to his wife. She was frightened and in pain and now she was going to go into labour at the worst possible time. Evan had to keep them both safe and away from Cara.

(Y/n) reached her hands out for Evan when he stumbled towards her. She let out a scream when the knife swiped near her stomach just as she tried to lunge forward and pull out of Cara's tight grip on her hair.

Her hands curled around Evan's arm and she let him yank her forwards until he had her safely behind him. Evan hated the way he felt (Y/n) go down on her knees behind him and he felt her hands scratch down his back and his leg but he couldn't grab her. He had to reach forward for Cara who tried to lunge with a violent scream that almost deafened him.

The knife slashed the inside of Evan's palm but the adrenaline countered out the slight sting he barely felt. He curled his fingers around the blade and pulled until he had hold of the weapon which he launched somewhere behind him. He heard it clatter against the bannister and was satisfied it was far enough away so Cara couldn't reach for it again just as he heard the front door swing open.

"Buck?!"

Evan had never been happier to hear Bobby's voice and the thudding sound of approaching footsteps told him that someone else was in the house too. Someone else was here to help. He latched his fingers around Cara's wrist and pushed until they both stumbled and a scream tore from her lips when they clashed into the armchair.

When hands grabbed his shoulders, Evan let go and allowed whoever it was to reel him backwards until he was towards the sofa.

He realised it was Bobby who had hold of him and Athena was now stood in front of him like a bodyguard, trying to move and calm Cara enough to arrest her.

"Buck, Buck, come on, up." Bobby slipped his hands beneath Evan's arms and pulled until Evan bent his knees and managed to stand up. He could feel Bobby turning him in the right direction and giving him a helpful nudge until he moved towards (Y/n).

She was cowering down on the floor behind the sofa, one hand braced on the arm of the sofa with her other hand cradling her stomach.

Tears flooded down her face and she could barely see when Evan held her chin and tilted her head up so they were level again. His thumb swiped across her lips and (Y/n) could see his eyes raking over her to see what injuries she had. Her wrist was aching but it had already stopped bleeding, it was more of a nuisance than anything. There was a slight pinch in the left side of her stomach and (Y/n) knew Evan could see the small trickle of blood soaking into her shirt.

The knife had given her another superficial cut on the side of her abdomen that was nothing to worry about. But the look in Evan's eyes said it all; he wasn't impressed, not in the least.

(Y/n) curled her hand tightly around Evan's wrist when his hand slid round to cradle the back of her neck. He leaned closer until (Y/n) could bury her face in his neck and his other arm curved around her waist to keep her tucked up against his chest.

"Alright, alright sweetheart I've got you. It's okay." He spoke quietly into the top of her head as he felt her tears soaking into his neck and it made him shiver.

"Are you both alright?" Bobby rested his hand on Evan's shoulder as he crouched down and tried to assess them. He knew Evan's hand was bleeding, he could see the blood pooling between his fingers and trickling steadily down his wrist. But he hadn't been inside when everything turned south, Bobby hadn't seen if they had been hurt before he and Athena barged in.

"Her water broke."

"Right, then we need to take a trip down to the hospital."

(Y/n) tried to keep her face tucked up into Evan's neck but he gently reeled her back so he could look down at her again. She could feel his thumb smoothing up and down the back of her neck beneath her hair and his other hand began rubbing circles into her lower back. The smile o his face was calming, but not as much as the way his blue eyes seemed to swirl like a light was being shone in his aqua blue iris.

"Let's go have a baby."

#evan buckley x reader #evan buckley #evan buckley imagine #pregnancy #buck x reader #buck imagine #pregnant! reader #911 imagine #imagine #bobby nash

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savingcrxws · 10 months

Text

EYES ON FIRE | just pretend

[ next chap ]

synopsis. you and carmen start off on the wrong foot and richie stirs the pot.

word count. 3.5k

warnings. language, hardly proofread but i tried

authors note. lets goooo, this is based off of this headcanon that i would recommend reading before this chapter(kinda treat it as a prologue)--lets get to part one!

"Richie, you dick."

If you had a dime for everytime Richard Jerimovich managed to inconvenience you, you could probably buy the Bean three times over.

But this, this really takes the cake.

“Well if it isn’t our little college graduate here in good ol’ Orleans Street,” Richie cheers, throwing his hands in the air in fake surprise as a smirk rises slowly onto his face. You feel like if you were to glare at the man any harder, you might actually make his head explode.

“What brings you here, sweetheart?”

You take a minute to try to collect yourself before you absolutely blow up in Richie’s face. Carmen stands directly across from you, just behind the bar, dressed in a dirtied white tee stained in a sauce of some kind. He’s very obviously avoiding eye contact with you, leaning over the bar and seemingly very interested in the walls around you.

“If I recall correctly, you asked me to come here, Richie,” you grit out, gripping the tote bag that hangs over your shoulder tighter. You press your lips together before a choice few words slide from between your teeth.

You see Carmen tense up at what you said, shoulders hunching up before dropping almost as quickly. The dirty blonde brings a hand up to his forehead in what you can only assume to be pure disbelief.

You continue. “You called me literally like, two hours ago.”

“Really, me? You sure it wasn’t another Richie? Maybe a Rick?”

“Richie, please don’t piss me off right now. I swear to God–”

A loud slam interrupts the developing argument and nealyr sends you flying out of your skin.

Your eyes dart over to Carmen, whose hands are splayed flat across the span of the bar. His head is tilted down, curls falling to cover almost all of what you could see of his face. He takes a breath before turning his head to look at the older man behind him.

His face is a bright red, angry flush sinking down past the collar of his shirt.

“Richie, you motherfucker,” he grits out, dragging a hand down his mouth before slamming his fist on the bar counter, rattling the plates and miscellaneous cups that littered across it. Richie tenses up behind him, catching on to the anger almost radiating off of him.

"Why the fuck would you invite her here?" Carmen yells, speaking of you like you weren't only a couple feet away from him. You frown, insulted at his disregard of you.

"Oh believe me, I hardly am jumping to be here myself, Berzatto." You spit.

Richie raises his hands in defense, taking a step back as Carmen bucks up towards him. “Hey, man, don’t shoot the messenger.” He casts a stray hand in your direction and Carmen’s eyes instinctively follow, making eye contact for the first time since you entered the restaurant.

The heat of his stare was strong, something that you could best describe as a blend of anxiety and anger. You notice that his eyes trail up and down your form, not in a "checking you out way" and more of a "I cant believe you're here right now" way.

“Bug usually never responds to my messages! Honestly, how was I supposed to know she would now,” Richie continues, still trying to maintain distance away from Carmen.

Carmen seems overwhelmed, split between jumping at Richie for his fake naivete or running a million miles away from you. He curls his hands into fist, and for a second, you think he's going to throw a punch. Quickly though, Carmen steps away from Richie and casts one more look towards you.

You wait for him to say something to your face, but he doesn't.

“I’m leaving,” Carmen mumbles under his breath, taking in another deep breath before abruptly turning and throwing open the kitchen door. The swinging door flies out and hits the wall, a sudden crack that you are sure would leave a dent later. Almost immediately, you hear the sound of distant bustling and pans clattering around.

A voice yells out in confusion. “What the hell, Jeff?”

You bring a hand to your forehead, feeling a headache incoming. It couldn’t have been more than three minutes and simply being around Carmen had given you more stress than you’ve had in the past week. Casting a glance up at Richie, you give him a final glare. The man simply shrugs his shoulders and gives a charismatic grin. “Well, that was pleasant wasn’t it, bug?”

“Ayo, Richie, what the fuck is up with Jeff,” a voice questions as they walk in from the path of destruction that Carmen left in his behind. The owner of that voice is none other than Tina, and for some reason, seeing her alleviates at least some of the headache you feel pulsating across your skull. Tina casts a confused glance at Richie, who simply points over in your direction. Tina’s eyes follow and when she makes eye contact with you a familiar smile drapes across her lips.

"Oh, well now I understand why Jeff's so pissed off."

"Yeah, and then the asshole has the nerve to act all coy, like he didn't blow my phone up with messages begging me to go down to the restaurant," you complained, throwing your head back to take another gulp of the wine in your cup.

In front of you, Sugar swirled her own glass of sparkling grape juice, shaking her head in disbelief at the absurdity of it all.

Shortly after Tina had walked out, you had left the restaurant (not before flipping Richie the bird) and immediately went to text Sugar for a rant session. Being the absolute angel that she is, she agreed almost immediately, stating that she had some qualms she wanted to rave about as well. Two glasses of Merlot for you and some non-alcoholic beverages for Natalie later, you two were sitting on the two ends of Sugar's couch, the TV playing a rerun of Selling New York as background sound for your current conversation.

"Yeah, Richie is a jerk." You nod in appreciation for her understadning your annoyance.

"And don't even get me started on you-know-who's reaction? He barely even acknowledged my existence!" You throw your free hand in the air. "Speaking about me like I wasn't right there?"

You release an exasperated sigh. "The ego on that guy."

Natalie hums, taking a languid sip of her drink. "Well, that sounds like Carmy alright. A tiny little ball of asshole-ery at any given point of time." The blonde reaches a hand over and places it on your knee. "Sorry my brother is such a dick."

You give a small smile at Sugar, resting your own hand on top of hers. "No need, it's clear you took all the 'sane person' genes in the Berzatto bloodline." Your joke pulls a giggle out of Sugar, the slight truth of her statement not missing between the two of you.

"But enough about me," you place your glass down on her coffee table before continuing. "What's going on in your life Nat?"

You listen as she rants about the stress of preparing for a bringing baby into the home. She talks about how those Al-Anon meetings she regularly attends are going, and how her one coworker Bryson seems to have a vendetta against her.

After a moment, Natalie coughs slightly, eyes darting across the living room in thought before returning back to you. "And well, I hate to keep talking about Carmy but..."

The smile drops quickly off of your face as Sugar trails the last word. "But what, Suge?"

"Buttt, Carmen's trying to rebuild The Beef," Sugar peers down into the contents of her glass as she speaks, "he's rebranding it as The Bear, and I've been trying to help him and the crew get everything sorted before they start tearing the building down."

You press your lips together tight at the mention of the familiar name.

"Personally, Carm, I don't see much wrong with the restaurant now?"

"The place is held together by a roll of duct tape and a dream, bug, I don't think you have to look very hard to see some issues."

You glance up at him from your position on his chest, looking as he gazed up at the ceiling of your bedroom. While his gaze was physically directed at the old glow in the dark stars scattered across the ceiling, you could tell his head was in a total different world.

"So you want to start a new restaurant?" You question, watching as Carmen shakes his head as soon as the words leave your lips.

"Nah, I just want to make it better, ya know? For Mikey, and Sugar, and Ma."

Sugar, noticing you are distracted, stops her sentence and gives a little frown, watching as your gaze drifts off somewhere distant.

Despite the years that have past, she knows that you still have feelings towards her brother. She was there for most of it, watching as you and Carmen went from daily hangouts to a weekly phone call, to a monthly check-in text, to, well, nothing.

She consoled you through most of the grieving phase of a post-breakup, like you had done for her a couple of times before. And after a few weeks of busting into tears anytime his name was mentioned, you began to heal, and focused those strong emotions towards improving yourself.

Natalie let a wistful sigh, pulling you out of your thoughts. Shaking the fog away, you give a remorseful smile at having basically cut Sugar off midway through her spiel. She gives you another small smirk before shaking her head, dismissing your silent apology with a wave of her hand. She draws another sip of her sparkling juice.

"But Carmen has been driving me up the wall with all the shit he wants me to help juggle. If I schedule one more appointment I might pull my hair out."

"Oh no, please don't do that, honey," Pete calls out from the kitchen, very obviously having been listening in on your gossip time from the kitchen table. Sugar gives off slight grimace at Pete's abrupt callout at her obvious exaggeration, shrugging her shoulders and giving a placating call back towards her husband.

Reaching back towards the table, you grab the wine glass from earlier. "Do you have anyone to help you? You know I have some connects who can manage the money and strategy end?" You offer, more than willing to alleviate some of the stress from your friend's shoulders.

"Yeah, can I have that guy who assisted you when you managed La Raison?" Sugar teases. "I have no idea how you managed to help that business go from near bankrupt to one of the best sellers down Michigan Avenue."

"Carter? Yeah, no. That dude was an asshat. He was more useful kissing up to the store owners than actually doing his job," you shake your head at the mention of one of your old employers. Since graduating, you had taken into strategic and financial management for businesses across Chicago. La Raison had been one of your main businesses for a while, the owners soon becoming close friends of yours.

You loved what you did, though business management sounded like a right pain to most, you found joy in being able to rub your braincells together and actually make a difference. Plus, the pay wasn't too bad either.

Sugar chuckles. "Yeah, well, I wish I could just have you as a little angel on my shoulder, giving me all the answers to all of these problems that keep popping up."

Though she was joking, you can see the way her brows furrow simply thinking of all of the things that she has to do. You could only imagine the stress she is under right now. Balancing opening a new restaurant with her ever-present family dilemmas, and a baby on the way?

Natalie was beyond used to extensive stress, so you know she won't verbally express all of her worries. But the thought of Sugar carrying all of that on her shoulders draws a slight frown on your face.

Before you know it, the thoughts are falling from your brain and past your lips.

"What if I helped you manage the place."

You honestly do not know why you offered to help manage this fuckery that is disguised as a restaurant.

Shortly after you had offered to help, it was as if Natalie had died, saw the light, and returned back to Earth. She squealed like a teenage girl and thanked you profusely. While she shaked you and explained all the things that needed to be done, you slowly began to realize the implications of your offer.

You, helping Natalie manage Carmen, your ex-boyfriend's, restaurant. A responsibility that would obviously take months.

And honestly, you were tempted to withdraw your offer despite the happy squeals of relief that Natalie was letting out. That was, until the tears of relief started pouring from her eyes.

Those pregnancy hormones really guilt tripped you.

Now, a week later, you're back at The Beef. Well, you suppose The Beef is gone officially now, the rusting sign pulled down from its former position hanging above the restaurant entrance.

"Why the hell did I sign up for this shit," you question out loud, watching as Manny and Angel pulling out a broken sign from inside the restaurant. Sighing, you reach into your bag and pull out a cigarette box, pulling one out before digging for your lighter in your back pocket.

"Mami, what are you doing here?" You turn around at the voice behind you, cigarette hanging loosely from your lips. Tina stands behind you, a smile stretched across her lips. "Seeing you two weeks in a row? Someone must be dying."

You smile, opening your arms for a hug that Tina reciprocates. "Oh you know, I'm here to save your asses from complete and utter failure." Tina gently pats your back as you pull apart, and it makes you regret not checking in on her and the rest of the crew more often.

"Missed you, T." You mutter, a small grin pulling up on one corner of your mouth.

"Missed you too, mami," Tina pats your arm before wrapping her hand around your elbow. "Now, I'm not trying to step on your toes but...you do know who your helping out right?"

You grimace at her implication, the reality hitting you once again. Behind those glass windows stands the man who took your heart and literally tossed it away like it was nothing. Took all of those years that you had spent together and wasted it away.

Broke up with you over fucking text.

And now, you're about to walk into his restaurant and help Sugar, and, consequently, help him fix this fuck up.

Talk about fate.

"Yeah, T," you start, letting her guide you towards the entrance of the restaurant, where you see Marcus and Fak carrying out some lockers. You wave towards the men, to which Fak responds with such enthusiasm that he drops some of the lockers on the ground, much to Marcus' chagrin.

You grimace before continuing. "Just helping my asshole ex because his sister is my bestie."

Sugar had texted you that Sydney, Carmen's former sous chef and business partner, had been more than happy to hire you as a strategic manager for the business. Although she didn't mention it, you knew that a certain dirty-blonde was not so excited at mention of you coming to help.

"He knows we need the help, no matter how fragile his tiny little ego is," Natalie had told you, a knowing smile on her face.

"Don't lose your head, boss." Tina teases, pushing you first through the doorway. As you finally enter the store, you take note of the pure chaos that is the restaurant.

Plywood and debris scattered across the flower, miscellaneous kitchen supplies and utilities lining the walls. Ebraheim and Sweeps were taking a sledgehammer to some random panels, while Richie was yelling something from the kitchen. As you take in the madness, Tina pats your elbow before heading back towards the kitchen.

"Welcome to The Bear!" Richie calls out as soon as he notices you. Spreading his arms out in what you assume is a hug, you only offer him a solid stare. Richie drops his arms and heads towards you despite your very clear disdain for him at the moment. "Glad you could join the team, bug."

"Richie, why the hell are you covered in black dust?"

"Inconsequential, sweetheart," you roll your eyes at his response before stepping over the debris in front of you.

"Where's Nat, Richard," you question walking behind the bar and towards the office in the back. Richie grumbles something under his breath before shouting out 'office.' Busting through the kitchen door, you note that the kitchen is just as messy as the front of the house. Stepping over black dust on the ground, you tread over to the office.

"Suge? You in there?" You call out, peering over the corner and into the office. The room is unoccupied, filled with nothing but discarded papers with miscellaneous phone numbers and sprawled writings.

You make note of what you know to be Nat's handwriting, eyes trailing over all of her notes for appointments and scheduling. Your eyes also rove over the chicken scratch that you also know to be Carmen's scribbles. Placing your bag down on the desk, you sit down in the rolling chair and decide to wait for Sugar to come in.

You grabbed a random pile of papers and attempted to digest some of the information being presented to you.

Bank statements, IRS requests, insurance, licenses, permits.

Judging by all the shit that needed to get cleared just for the restaurant to legally be open, your surprised that Mikey wasn't being physically chased down by the IRS and thrown into jail.

"Hey, Sugar, Syd and I are going to work on the chaos menu tonight so I'm going to leave the rest up to you, okay?"

Carmen slings around the corner, too focused on pulling his coat on his shoulders to notice who exactly was sitting in the office.

Instinctively, you freeze at his sudden appearance in the doorway, breath caught in your throat. At the lack of response, Carmen finally looks up and makes direct eye contact with you.

His blue eyes widen, clearly not expecting you to be the person in the chair. You rack your brain over the next move to make, the silence continuing as he just stands in the doorway and practically gawks at your existence.

Deciding that staring indefinitely at each other was probably one of the worst things you can currently think of, you clear your throat to break the silence. That seems to break Carmen out of whatever state of shock he seemed to be in; you watch as he awkwardly wrings his hands, like he was at a lost of what to do next.

You're half-expecting him to make a repeat of the last time you saw each other and storm away from you. However, Carmen just stands there, eyes darting from you to random objects in the office then you again on repeat.

Both of you are waiting for the other to say something. To yell, chastise, and start an argument.

Biting the bullet, you start. "Hey, Carmen."

He seems to be taken aback that you even uttered his name, eyes meeting yours once again. You almost forgot how blue his eyes are-so bright that they're almost clear.

He nods in acknowledgement before saying your name to greet you in return.

Awkward silence fills the room once again. While you know that Carmen is hardly a conversationalist, this has to be the most painful quiet you've ever experienced.

Be amicable, you think to yourself. He's your boss/business partner now.

You're doing this for Sugar.

"Umm..," you trail off, eyes scanning the office around you in attempts to find something else to talk about. "I tried to find Nat, but she might have gone A.W.O.L"

Carmen nods his head a couple of times, a soft hmm leaving his lips. You can tell that he wants to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue but sealed behind his lips.

"Yeah, ok-okay, yeah." He nods rapidly, crossing his arms across his chest, lowering his gaze down to your shoes.

"Yep."

God, someone shoot me now.

Carmen clears his throat. "I-I-uuhh, you know, Sugar really appreciates the help."

You nod, licking your lips out of habit. "Yeah, she's told me."

"Yeah?"

"Yep."

Just when you were about to figure out a way to turn invisible or sink into the floor, Sugar rounds the corner and lightly bumps into Carmen's back. She lets out a noise of surprise from her throat and Carmen jerks forward a little.

"Carmy, why the fuck are you standing in the fucking doorwa-" Sugar cuts herself off when she spots you over her brother's shoulder. She makes eye contact with you and you swear you see a little mischief in her eyes. She pushes past Carmen to step inside of the office, crossing her arms over chest to assess the room.

You, sitting in the office chair, papers still grasped tightly in your hands and your lips practically licked dry from your nerves.

Across, Carmen stands angled towards Sugar, almost trying to physically minimize the amount of eye contact you two share.

Natalie surmises that she just saved the both of you from a very awkward moment "Oh, shit. Didn't mean to interrupt."

"No-no, uh, you're good, Sugar," Carmen sputters out, face flushing a bright red. He brings a hand over his mouth to physically stop the word vomit that was about to fall out of it. "Umm, was just gonna tell you that Sydney and I are leaving to work on the new menu."

Sugar's eyes dart over to you again, sitting stiffly in the office chair. She raises her eyebrows in question but you subtly shake your head.

Let's not talk about it right now.

She nods in acknowledgement before turning to fully face Carmen.

"Okay Carmy, you're good to go. Me and Bug here are just gonna get some paperwork sorted." Carmen looks in your direction at the use of the familiar nickname before he hmms again.

He takes a step back and waves his hand in goodbye. "All right, bye Sugar," he's fully outside of the doorway now, but he pauses before leaving you and Sugar's line of sight completely.

He stands there for a beat, running whatever thought across his mind a couple times. Finally, like he settled on an answer, Carmen gulps and raises his head to look at you.

He nods his head and whispers out your name and a goodbye, followed by a swift exit out of the kitchen.

You're practically stuck in the chair, the past five minutes having been a complete whirlwind. The kitchen door whips against the wall in a crack, the squeaking echoing from your place in the office. Your gaze is still focused on where your ex-boyfriend had stood not even a couple of seconds ago.

"Well," Sugar starts, a knowing smile across her face. "That wasn't as violent as I thought it was going to be."

requests to be in the taglist for this fic in the replies below or send me an ask! thank you all for reading!

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfic #the bear x reader #the bear fx #jeremy allen white x reader #jeremy allen white #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x you #the bear season 2

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faeryarchives · 4 months

Text

heartslabyul with a furina-like female reader! the "regina of all waters, kindreds, peoples and laws" is deeply loved by all. under her flamboyant and imprudent facade, lies a girl holding an unbearable weight and guilt on her shoulders to save her people. note: contains major spoilers about fontaine story quests (you have been warned) !! furina - like female reader series: savanaclaw recent fics: you feel like home & octavinelle with a fischl like female reader! & i'm not jealous !! (savanaclaw x gn!reader)

-‘๑’- riddle rosehearts

"who are you people? and why are you all dressed suspiciously? no, don't come near me, i am warning you!" "calm dow- where did these water familiars came from?!" "stay back i said!"

riddle was taken aback by your sudden behavior and your ability to wield a sword as well as commanding your familiar like it's your second nature! but weapons are still not allowed on school grounds 🤬

after the incident, riddle thought he wouldn't interact with you again when somehow manage your way to the dorm and stepped in when he was about to collar his dorm mates

"i don't think it's appropriate for you to chain your subjects like prisoners, mr. riddle. that is not a proper way of to rule." "don't stand in my way, what do you know about ruling?!" "... you have no idea."

and you proved him so wrong after overhearing your conversation with your heartslabyul friends. it's not like he intended to eavesdrop but it just happened that he was passing by

"after 500 years of acting on stage - i am finally free to live as a normal human again without the need to act as a strong and more god-like version of myself. but the problem is, i don't know where to start."

riddle made it his mission to always make you feel welcomed in the heartslabyul dorm and gradually became close friends with you

who knew that the two of you are similar to each other? from ruling over a community to having tea parties and your love for sweets

"riddle, you can enjoy sweets as much as you want. you dont need to follow such suffocating rules." "...what a pleasant surprise, truly an extra slice of joy."

believe it when i say he is very fond of your salon members and even went out his way to always give them a proper greeting and send them invitations for the unbirthday parties.

it was like he is healing his inner child along with you + very comfortable to the point that he doesn't even hesitate to ask you for advice 🫡 rather than an older sister you were like his twin

-‘๑’- trey clover

it is bad to have favoritism but trey clover took the cake immediately after watching him bake the most delicious cake you ever tasted

sorry to all fontaine patissier or fontaine in general but maybe you might as well stay in this world ... kidding 🧍🏻‍♀️

out of everyone you met, trey's firs impression was the second best (kalim being first for obvious reasons) he was like your dear friend who adores tea time but more laid back verion of them

"what a rich aroma and delicate texture... i didn't expect you to be such an accomplished cook... with refined taste, as well!" "a compliment from the regina herself is such a worthy praise for someone like me." "nonsense, trey! you are the best one out there!"

with curiosity getting the best of you, you always try to help out during the unbirthday parties and learn how to cook and bake from the vice dorm leader

... after all having pasta everyday is not very healthy 😭

listens to your rambles about the novels you've read befora and suggests you some that he have on hand! at this point he might as well be your guardian angel

despite being smaller than most of the student at nrc - you shocked the whole heartslabyul group after fighting off the known bully group of seniors trying to scare some freshmen

"now go along and never show your faces to me again. capiche?" "woah, i thought you said you are not used to battling!" "mmm, i did. but it's different from my abilities, no?"

you were the opposite of trey, rather than being embarrassed, you know your strengths and weaknesses and use it to your advantage

"trey, don't tell me you are just an ordinary person, you liar. you can't fool me with your downplaying talk!"

he can't fool you with that but trey pulls some harmless pranks on you by tricking you in putting a different recipe in the pie orsomething

he learned his lesson after you really followed his instructions and became the first victim to his own prank

you always seem to pride yourself as a strong and capable woman and how despite everything you are going through you always go for it headstrong

"now look at you, getting sick. i told you not to overwork yourself right?" "mmm, sorry big brother..."

did you just say 🥺 older 🥺 brother? after that he wears that title like a cape everyday and even brags it to cater 😭

-‘๑’- cater diamond

oh cater absolutely adores you the moment he saw your outfit because it is so well made?! 🫨 not only that - you were like giving the total celebrity vibes

"you have an eye for discerning people! yes, i am once the most beloved star of my country... but that time already came to an end."

sometimes while he tags along whenever you, grim and the adeuce duo hangs out - he always had this feeling that you are staring deep into his soul 👁️👁️

as much as he puts up his usual cheerful facade to fool you, it was like arguing up to a wall and you finally pointed it out one day during your tea parties

"you know, you don't have to force yourself to eat sweets. i cooked some habanero pepper cream pasta earlier with

you might as well become his favorite underclassman 🥺

no wonder you were able to read him so well because you revealed that some how seeing him act in such way reminds him of yourself in the past

"sometimes acting for so long can make you wonder if people can really see through you or was it all fake." "but that is how it is right? how can other people know us when we don't even know ourselves?"

anyways! every now and then, cater would appear right on your doorsteps with small clothes and hats in shopping bags to give it to the salon members

it was funny to see your salon members have a new member and they treat him like their own son 😭🤍

as much as he want to tease you sometimes - he try not to over do it after seeing you let the salon trio chase after ace and grim all over the maze with threatening looks in their eyes.

"wow, mademoiselle crabaletta looks so energetic when she got to hit ace at the back of his head." "well, ace did pissed her off by playing rock paper scissors with her." "... did she win?" "i don't know, you tell me big brother cater."

... he will never let it down after owning his title as your big brother 😭 get ready to receive random gifts every now and then because this big brother cater is ready to spoil you to rotten

-‘๑’- ace trappola

having to get sprayed and hit by multiple bubbles in the face was certainly not on ace's list 😭 remind him to never play rock paper scissors with mademoiselle crabaletta ever again

he really like to be your friend genuinely 🙏 not that you mind though because ace is fun to talk too + you were able to adapt and learn about this world thanks to him, deuce and grim

but sometimes, he can be a little too reckless in roping you in trouble

"woah! (name) put mr seahorse down and let's talk about this!" "oh so you prefer my sword instead?" "it was just a harmless prank!" "then why is there an anemone on grim's head, again?!"

after you were comfortable enough to tell your story - ace thought he was actually dreaming because how did you stay sane after that 500 years?!

will ask you to help him with his studies and practicing magic + probably thought you were clueless but after years of searching every nook and nanny in your nation's library, you were like a walking dictionary

"how come you get a higher score than me in animal languages?!" "i was wondering how on teyvat did you get a lower score than me?"

omg you traitor 👩🏻‍⚖️

your number one buddy with midnight snacks + everytime he would sneak out of the dorm he always bring some sweets as a bribe to let him stay

there are times that you always fool ace by acting especially in front ofriddle when he accidentally dropped your cake in accident

despite the shenanigans between you two, he always trusts you to have his back

"(nickname) cover for me!" "alright! let the world come alive, hehe!"

whenever the salon members feel silly, they will go and chase after him and you just let them be - even they shower him with love in unexpected ways.

"recently, i've been wondering if Iife been a little too hard on myself in the past. i never got the chance to enjoy my life." "then let's go grab cater-senpai and go shopping!"

he will not let you experience such loneliness again! not when he is one of your first friend here in wonderland.

-‘๑��- deuce spade

opposite to ace, he is mademoiselle crabaletta's favorite for some reason or even the whole salon members are fond of him !

while he is more on the less troublesome side - he still make some troubles but you can see how much he was trying to not get you involve in it 😭

"deuce, you could've just told me earlier about this..." "i'm sorry, i don't want you to get involve again." "you are really a jester. we are friends! how can i not help you when you are facing problems?"

just as you listen to his problems, you were surprised that deuce is a great listener 😮 its not sarcasm !!

it first came to you during the octavinelle incident when deuce found you crying behind the ramshackle down, hugging your knees and being surrounded by your salon members, trying to calm you down

"i still couldn't do it... i do not belong in this world now i don't even have a place to stay..." "(name)..." "d-don't look at me like this! just give me a second." "no it's okay, let it out. i am so sorry for putting the pressure on you."

the sweetest guy??? ever??? he will try to include you in discussions about this world itself and wouldn't let you feel out of place

you even found him taking down notes whenever you get the chance to talk about your nation and people

"you have a dragon as a friend?!" "yea, don't let the dragon title fool you though. he is very kind but all he eats and drink is water every break time."

while ace had your back, deuce got your sides covered + knows fully how capable of being the front liner

"how dare you!?" "ah, (nickname) don't go to far!" "... remind me to never mess with her again."

remember the phantom back in the mines? you encountered one again and after it made one of your salon members disappear - the trio watch you literally annihilate the monster

seeing you all impatient and having a childlike temper made him laugh because you weren't so different from them after all

but please do not rush in battle so suddenly, you might as well give him a heart attack 😵

don't tell the others but deuce really looks up to you as an admirable person + not only you were able to endure everything for a long time, you still have the heart to forgive everyone who doubted you.

"do you know that you are really a respectable friend?" "...? oh my god, did you eat mushrooms for breakfast again?" "i'm serious!" "oh is that so? well i am proud of you. don't you know you improved a lot too?"

it's 7 am in the morning are you trying to make him cry? 🥹

having you with him during his high school life is an unexpected but wonderful experience - learning other things together + being interested in the same things? he had never felt such comfort before

deuce just hope that even though he and ace are seen as troublemakers, you won't hesitate to let your walls come down when times get rough 🫂

640 notes · View notes

queers-gambit · 4 months

Text

Confection Invention

prompt: what is a legacy other than what we're remembered for after we die? names are lost, stories altered, family names obsolete, but recipes are forever because cuisine transcends time.

or how Sansa Stark's favorite dessert, lemon cakes, came to be after discovering your husband's never had a nameday cake.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female!reader

fandom masterlist: House of the Dragon

word count: 3.5k+

warnings: none? none. seems suspicious.

Sansa Stark, newly crowned Queen in the North, was once a child too small, too scared, too sheltered from the harsh brutality of life's reality. Before she left Winterfell that fateful day, it was well known in the castle that the young girl adored the tasty sweet treat, lemon cakes. A confection of dense cake with lemon shreds mixed in the batter, a lemon glaze poured over, and garnished with a bright and tart lemon slice.

King's Landing was equipped to make the dessert and the young redhead still found pleasure in them, sure, but then shit got real when the Lannisters, you know, murdered her father. Sansa "grew up" and didn't bother with sweet treats after that. They just never tasted the same, and she began to admonish herself whenever she had a hankering; figuring with so much bad in the Realm, her want for cake was inappropriate and misplaced.

After years of turmoil, of losing any and everyone she ever cared for, the night the North declared her Queen of their newly-independent realm, Sansa Stark indulged herself and asked the kitchen staff to send lemon cakes to her room with supper. When her private meal was served, so was her dessert, and Sansa had to ask the servant serving her before they could disappear, "Excuse me?"

"Yes, Your Grace?" The serving maid bowed her head, facing Sansa with clasped hands locked stoically in front of her. Sansa almost cringed when she heard her new title, but refrained from reacting - it would simply just take getting used to.

"Might I ask, how are these made?"

"How what are made, Your Grace?"

"These lemon cakes."

"Oh, uh, I do not know the recipe, but I can ask the kitchens - "

"Well, it's odd, isn't it?"

"What is, Your Grace?"

"I've been all over the Realm," she spoke with an even tone, ever the emotionally-stunted diplomat, "and I've sampled many of these cakes in my lifetime, yet fail to find any real distinction. It's almost as if everyone is following the same recipe."

"Oh, well, I do know that they are, Your Grace."

"They are? All of the kingdoms?"

"Yes, Your Grace, i-it's a rare thing, but yes, the Seven Kingdoms use the same recipe."

"How can that be possible? How do they all get the same recipe?"

The maid glanced at the door nervously, "Uh, I-I do not know, Your Grace."

"You may speak freely, you are in no danger here," Sansa encouraged, gesturing to the only other empty chair at her table. "Please, come sit, indulge me in this tale. I am only curious."

"Well," she turned to shut the chamber door, speaking quietly as if what she was about to say was a secret, "it would depend if you know anything about the Targaryen dynasty, Your Grace."

"Only what was generically taught."

She nodded, taking the seat Sansa offered. "Some 2 centuries ago, there was a great scandal and a great war - one you may know as the Dance of Dragons." Sansa nodded and the maid explained anyway, "You see, it started because King Jaehaerys lost his heirs and was forced to choose between eligible familial candidates. Viserys Targaryen, the King's grandson, and his granddaughter, Viserys' cousin, Rhaenys Targaryen."

"Right, I remember the names somewhat."

"The King chose Viserys because, well, he was a man and Rhaenys was only a woman - though, married to a Velaryon, another ancient House hailing from Valyria." Sansa nodded along. "Anyways, uh, King Viserys' first wife was a Targaryen woman who gave him a daughter and then died birthing a son. He remarried a Hightower girl after that and had four other white-haired children; three sons and a daughter."

Sansa nodded slowly as she ate. Nothing like dinner and an entertaining story.

"The second son was Prince Aemond Targaryen, and he had this wife, you see, who was something akin to a saint on soil."

"Nobody's that nice," Sansa snarled in refusal, eyes almost rolling.

"You forget, Your Grace, some 200 years ago, the people never considered rebelling against the Targaryens. Only an arrogant fool would charge a horse at a dragon and think they'd win, so, at the time of this tale, there was no thought to protest the monarchy. Anyways, it wasn't just her kindness that made Aemond Targaryen's wife saint-like. It was all she was, and her most notable work was helping establish, build, organize, and operate orphanages in King's Landing, and then, around the Realm."

"Hmm."

"Well, she worked with those kids and apparently, had an affinity for baking. And because she worked with orphans, when she would take them around to other regions for adoption or placement, she'd leave each kid their own copy of the recipe."

Sansa considered the tale for a moment, then asked, "So, why lemon cakes? Where did they come from?"

The maid smiled.

Aemond Targaryen flinched when he heard something shatter, walking up the hallway alone and only a few strides from his bedchamber. When he opened his door, the One Eyed Prince actually laughed at the sight, "Oh, Gods, are you all right, my love?"

You pouted up at Aemond from the floor, "It was an accident."

"I can tell."

"I really didn't mean to."

He leaned on the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest, "No, no, I can tell by the way only the vase my mother gifted us for our wedding is broken. Never mind you telling me over the weeks how you despise it."

"It was an accident! I really didn't mean to," you sighed, glancing at the shattered vase around you.

"How'd it happen?" Aemond asked softly, moving forward after pushing off the doorframe and shutting the door. "Hmm? C'mere, little love," he bent at the waist to pick you up from the floor, hoist you in his arms, then carry you to the bed. "You all right? You hurt?"

"No...?"

"Show me."

You frowned and showed the shallow cut on the underside of your forearm, informing, "It was an accident, I swear t'the Seven, Aemond. I just tripped on the chair," you pointed to where the sitting furniture was overturned, "and fell into the table. I was replacing the flowers in the vase."

He nodded, "Your cut isn't bad, here, just hold this to it." Your husband pressed a spare cloth to your wound before straightening his spine. "Sit here a moment, I'll clean."

"No, let me - "

"No, no, love, just wait," he chuckled. In the time it took a maid to bring in a broom and dustpan, Aemond had successfully distracted you enough with casual conversation. It was there you discovered a secret you deemed unacceptable. "No, I am not lying, sweet girl," Aemond chuckled, "I've truly never had a cake for my nameday. The idea just seems silly, doesn't it? To celebrate such a common event?"

You scoffed, "We'll come back to your cynicism later. Surely, in your youth, your mother made you cake?"

"Being the second son, you often got overlooked," Aemond shrugged as if it didn't bother him. "I am not missing much, it's just cake."

"'Just cake'!? You say that because you do not know," you pouted. "What kind of a wife am I that I did not know this?"

Aemond laughed, "We've been married all of 3 months."

"It should've come up," your eyes rolled, "or at least in the lifetime of friendship before our betrothal."

"Consider this a learning opportunity between spouses. It isn't a bad thing," Aemond defended, the shattered and scattered ceramic being swept away. "So what, I've not had cake? I am missing nothing."

"It makes me sad."

Aemond laughed as he eyed you for a moment, nodding like he understood something. "You mean to remedy this, don't you?" He asked, showing the maid out of your chambers.

"Of course I do!"

He chuckled, "You know I am not fond of sweets."

"Doesn't matter, I'll find something you like. We can start with the basics, uh... Um... Well, I guess, do you like dense cakes? Fluffier, lighter ones?"

He paused to think, offering, "I like the gooseberry pies served at banquets?"

"Those are dense."

"Hmm, then dense is fine. They're in smaller quantities because they're so heavy."

You nodded, "Any flavors?"

"I am unsure on that front."

"Fruits? C'mon, fruits are usually really good with pastries and cakes."

"You know what I like," Aemond sighed, uncomfortable with the idea of attention for his nameday. "Trust me, love, I cannot make this decision - I just don't know. I am terribly green when it comes to sweets. Even when offered at formal events, you know I'm not interested."

"Well, how about a sampling? I can make you different treats and you tell me which you like."

Aemond chuckled, knowing you wouldn't let this go and agreed, "All right, sure."

And boy, did you keep to your word. The kitchen staff was already used to seeing you on a decently regular basis, but suddenly, you were spending all day in the kitchen, trying out different recipes. You made cakes, cookies, brownies, pastries, all kinds of desserts! You even went a step further, trying out newly invented ideas until narrowing down several options. You were determined to give Aemond something, wanting him to feel your love and effort in the confections because his nameday was the one day you had to pamper and spoil him without complaint.

(Though, trust me, he still complained and deflected attention.)

You loved Aemond's nameday because he had no choice but to be at the forefront of your attention and affection; something his family found amusing after their years of neglect towards him. Every other day of the year, he was stubborn and impossible and made everything about you; but not his nameday!

Even though he truly wasn't a fan of desserts, Aemond still met you on a balcony at the end of the week because not only did he adore making you happy, but he hardly ever said no to you. You had an array of treats made and displayed, and slowly, he sampled what you presented; speaking simply for your mental notes. However, he came upon something new - something he's not seen before.

"What's this?"

"Um, well... See, my younger siblings sometimes like citrus in their desserts, so, I thought this might be good? Or it could be tart - one or the other."

"This is lemon?"

"Yes, and that is made with limes from Volantis," you pointed to another platter, "that one's orange, that one's cherry, and that one has coconut."

"Where did you get coconuts and cherries?"

"That's not important. Which one is your favorite? It's what you're getting for your nameday, so do not lie."

"Pardon my pun, but the lemon cake takes the cake, sweet girl."

Aemond's heart soared in his chest when your grin of pride was hardly contained; looking pleased that you had invented something to his liking - making it all the more special, being something Aemond never has to share with others.

Sansa thought it was a lovely tale, clarifying, "So, when you say she established King's Landing's orphanages, did she use the Crown's money or the tax payer's?"

The maid smiled, "No, Your Grace, she used royal funds. King Viserys commissioned her bakery, and after a bit, the people actually started donating to her cause because the King offered tax exemption for those who donated."

"And she would take the kids around the Seven Kingdoms for placement? By herself? Why? Why not bake full time? She was obviously good at it."

"She was passionate, and the kids couldn't all fit in King's Landing anymore, so, she had to help relocate them for a better quality of life. She also gave each child the recipe so they could have a little taste of 'home' when they wanted."

Sansa nodded slowly. "How did word spread if she only made it for her husband on his nameday?"

"A moment, please," you interrupted your in-laws departure from the dinner table. When Alicent looked you in the eye, you smiled, "I've something for you all to try in honor of Prince Aemond's nameday."

"Oh, love, no," Aemond whispered in embarrassment, "not tonight."

"Would you mind, Mykal?" You asked the kind servant, who nodded once and exited the dining room.

"What's this about?" Otto questioned.

"Well, I thought we just might celebrate for just a moment together," you eased. "What with tensions so high lately, I just figured we deserved something... Sweet."

Alicent's lips twitched, always knowing in her heart that you were too good for Aemond - too good for this wreck of a family. When Mykal returned, he carried a decorated platter of lemon cakes and set it in the middle of the cleared-away table. You stood.

"What are they?" Aegon asked with an unsure curled lip.

"Lemon cakes," you smiled, "a confection of my own invention made especially for my husband, hmm?" You served a small, personal cake to each family member using saucer platters. "Please, just try it - tell me what you think."

You placed the final cake in front of your husband, grinning and taking your seat again. You knew he hated the spotlight, it gave him anxiety; so, you tried to do your best by acknowledging his nameday without needing to fuss over him. He always liked that you two celebrated privately, but being a "special event", the family had dinner together that night and you thought it a great time for the tart dessert to debut. You dwelled in anticipation as your in-laws all tried their cakes, Aemond feeding you every other bite from his fork as there came a chorus of satisfying hums and groans of approval.

"Holy Mother," Otto chuckled, instantly forking another bite in his mouth. "Mh, mh, mh, wow," he smacked his lips, nodding in impression. "You invented this?" He asked, watching you nod. "You invented a new cake..."

"For Aemond's nameday, yes," you confirmed, tone a little sharper than usual in an effort to make your point.

"I gotta admit, Y/N," Aegon spoke with a full mouth, a few crumbs flying, "this is bloody delicious."

"It really is," Alicent agreed, offering her husband a bite. "Viserys? Love? It's a lemon cake, here, try a bite."

"A what?" Viserys wheezed in confusion. "N-Never heard of l-lemon cake."

"They're new," she explained, "Y/N made them for Aemond's nameday. Isn't that special? Try a bite, love, there you go."

Viserys accepted the bit of cake on Alicent's fork, wincing gently at the tart taste before, too, humming. "'S good," he whispered, looking drained of energy.

"Gotta make these more often," Aegon pointed his fork at the cake crumbles left. He continued, "Like, bring these to every banquet we host and this will be the star." You chuckled and put another cake on his plate, it being instantly torn into.

You smiled at Aemond, "Guess they're a hit."

He leaned down to affectionately press his lips to your forehead for a long moment, mumbling, "Knew they would be."

"So, does this mean I can bake you cakes now? Every nameday? You won't complain?" You asked, tangling his hand with yours and relishing in the way he squeezed.

"Oh, he'll still complain," Helaena giggled, licking icing from her finger, "no matter what."

Aemond smirked at his sister, offering a subtly jab at his family, "I would never complain about being loved. Besides," he offered you a fond, softening look, "she does it so well, wouldn't you say?"

The family hummed in agreement, not truly paying attention to his words - all enraptured with scraping their saucer platters clean. You smiled up at him, letting his lips find yours in a brief show of emotion.

Otto mused, "You know, I've heard it said, 'the love of a good woman will echo through lifetimes'. I think food is a surefire way to ensure that legacy of love, respect, consideration..."

For the next few weeks, you spent more and more time in the kitchens; whipping out batches of lemon cakes to offer the Keep's staff after rumors spread of your cakey goodness. You gifted guards, trainers, tutors, members of court, maids, the castle's servants the newly invented confection. It quickly became the most talked about topic in King's Landing; the citizens being obsessed with your cake and demanding a taste of their own.

In fact, Viserys was so pleased by the turn of events that on one of his rare good days, he consulted Otto. "A bakery for Y/N - would it be worth the purchase? Do you think the Crown should fund the purchase?"

Otto considered, "Well, since her cakes are the hottest commodity currently, I'd say, yes, Your Grace, it'd be worth exploring as a new revenue for the Crown."

"No, no, not for the Crown t'collect from - leave it for Aemond and Y/N to share. This is not to be a business we collect the profits from - but rather, something they might enjoy." Viserys tried to smile, deciding, "Make it happen, Otto, my friend."

"Your Grace?"

"I want - I want her to have a bakery. Where she might sell her baked goods as she sees fit, not as an extension of the Crown, she deserves it. All her hard work," the King wheezed, coughing violently.

"Of course, Your Grace."

Yet when you were informed about your new business venture and shown the building that was to be your bakery, you told Otto that you didn't bake for money and having your own business would be terribly redundant. Yet Otto insisted that you made your own rules and if you wanted to charge, you could, but Viserys wanted you to have a designated safe space to create in.

Upon the grand opening, you were a SMASH hit. The line in your bakery was nonstop and extended out the door; the Gold Dragons overflowing enough for you to restock your ingredients tenfold AND have leftovers to funnel back into the orphanages. People talked, they spread word and rumor, and most patrons had heard through the "grape vine" that your bakery was well worth any wait. Being so popular, you required extra hours baking and only opened about three days a week because you still had your other job.

Speaking of, you obviously still worked with the orphans; in fact, some of them even came to hang out in the bakery! No, they didn't help bake unless they asked to specifically mix the icing or something, because you didn't believe in exploiting child labor. Anyways, on certain days, you closed the bakery and brought all the cakes to the orphanage to distribute, always having a warm heart when the kids giggled while eating the little sweet treat. It inspired you to write down the recipe you invented and every trip you took to help kids find their placement, you brought them recipe cards.

"Here," you handed the card over to the guardian agreeing to care for the kids, "this is just a recipe for a cake and I promise it's really simple to follow. It'll be a familiar taste to them when living here, somewhere unfamiliar for now." You sniffled, offering a watery smile, "Just wanted them to have a piece of home."

The volunteer guardians were usually grateful, knowing baking these cakes could be a form of bonding between them and the kids. It was difficult trying to get these types of kids to open up after all they endured on the streets before your orphanage took them in. Maybe a little cake would help mend those wounds and assure them, while here, they were safe.

You never expected to live out through history, but while names are lost, stories altered, and family names become obsolete, cuisine is a universally shared experience that transcends time.

Sansa sat for a moment, stewing in the story. Never had she imagined such a history lesson surrounding her favorite dessert; she would've thought some old granny would've been messing around in the kitchens to invent such a treat. Not a Princess of the Realm, especially one belonging to the most fearsome and longest reigning monarchy in Westerosi history.

For a brief moment, she was jealous by the description of your relationship to Prince Aemond; hearing how loving your husband was, how supportive and kind to you. She wondered if she'd ever experience something like that - and if she'd ever meet someone who would take her nameday as seriously as you took your husband's.

"What happened after?" She asked quietly, taking a long sip of her wine. "To the Prince and Princess, I mean?"

The maid shrugged meekly, "Not too long after, the Dance of Dragons started and there was no time or reason to bake anymore. They both perished in the flames of war, unfortunately, becoming victims of the Princess Rhaenyra - Aemond's older half-sister."

"Mh," Sansa nodded, "I've heard of her. Maegor with Tits, they called her."

The maid nodded, finishing, "But, you see, Your Grace, the recipe was already spread around the Realm and to this day, is still being used."

The room was silent for a long moment.

"All that," she stabbed her lemon cake with her fork and lifted the bite to her eye for examination, "just because she loved a man and wanted to give him what he's never had before."

"Perhaps, Your Grace, that is why nameday cakes are now tradition. They say the love of a good woman will echo through lifetimes, Your Grace."

requesting rules and masterlist

HOTD masterlist

555 notes · View notes

loko4koko · 4 months

Text

·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ Gojo Satoru x f!reader ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·

100 FOLLOWER MILESTONE CELEBRATION ✰

>fanart_credit: _3aem (via_twitter)

MDNI 18+

>word_count: 7293

>contents: slight crack (it’s a gojo fic what do u expect), established relationship, fake engagements, excessive use of “fiancé/fiancée”, satoru is DOWN BAD like ultra simp 3000 levels, kiiinda rich boy!gojo but like barely, gojo calls you “angel” and baby” a lot, cunnilingus, kinda feral!gojo too, multiple orgasms (f!receiving), multiple positions, explicit p in v, rough(ish) sex, creampie, gojo being a lil slut for you, itty bitty dacryphilia (if you squint mad hard)

there’s a standoff happening in your kitchen. a staring contest of sorts. the tension in the air is palpable, so thick you could taste it if you stuck out your tongue. your opponent is a worthy contender, giving just as good as it gets. your nose twitches with the intensity of it, eyes narrowed as you keep your gaze firm, focused.

your adversary in this battle? a red, velvet ring box.

god, it’s like it’s taunting you with it’s delicate heart shape. smug little box, just sitting on the dining table unopened. you’re not sure how long you’ve been caught in the orbit of this suspicious item, but it must’ve been quite a while, according to your boyfriend.

“babeee, i’ve been calling you! what’re you doing?” satoru appears from the direction of your bedroom, frown on his face from his belief that you’re purposely ignoring him. he slips behind you, arms around your torso as he leaves a kiss on the top of your head.

“oh,” he laughs as he fixes his eyes on what has you so engrossed, “it’s not what you think.”

this is what gets your attention, turning your head so your gaze is no longer on the little box, but on satoru instead. “what, you proposing to your other girlfriend or something?” you pout. he laughs again, annoyingly louder this time.

“baby, i’m not proposing to anybody yet. and you know i don’t have another girlfriend. it took me 3 years to get you to say yes to one date, you think i’m pulling that off again? thanks for putting faith into my game, though.” you can’t help but to roll your eyes in jest, turning in the man’s arms to wrap yourself around him.

“yeah, yeah, whatever. so…what is it then?”

“it’s a ring.”

“i thought you said you weren’t proposing…”

“okay well, technically, i am. but listen! i saw online some guy and his girlfriend went to different restaurants with a fake ring and when he ‘proposed’ to her, they gave them free food and desserts! so. we’re doing that.”

you pull yourself from satoru’s grasp, staring up at him blankly. he gives you a goofy smile in return, bringing a hand up to boop your nose when you remain silent.

“satoru….really? doing this just so you can get free chocolate lava cakes and ice cream? i’m definitely deleting tiktok from your phone, damn app gives you way too many ideas.” and there he goes frowning again, pretty pink lips downturned so dramatically.

“baby, no…i’m doing this so that WE can get free chocolate lava cakes and ice cream. what kind of selfish, evil man do you take me for? … and you’re not deleting my tiktok! how else am i going to send nanami videos he claims to not watch but always knows about when i ask him?”

a sigh leaves you as you shake your head, truly experiencing defeat. you, and everyone else that had ever met him for that matter, knew that there was no changing satoru’s mind when the words “free” and “dessert” were involved. he’d eat himself into a goddamn diabetic coma if you let him get away with it.

satoru enacts his master plan the next night, surprising you with a stunning new dress and a note that says to “look super sexy and marriageable (where the hell had he even learned that word?) as usual” left on your bed. you try your best to comply with his wishes, getting your makeup and hair as perfect as you can before slipping the very revealing dress on. you realize something rather odd while you doll yourself up; satoru hasn’t come home to get himself ready. it was almost 6pm, the time designated by him in his little note, and you were practically ready aside from some jewelry and shoes. you couldn’t imagine that he would make you wait while he showered and dressed, so you were a little bit confused, but you decide to brush it off while you pick between solid gold hoops and diamond-encrusted dangles, both courtesy of the man in question.

when 6:04pm rolls around, and your fancy yves saint laurent heels are wrapped around your feet, the front door opens. you look up from your seat at the kitchen island with a wine glass in hand, and, in the most cliché way possible, your breath is stolen right out of your lungs. satoru was always stupidly beautiful, just so gorgeous that it made you sick, but now? he looked even more alluring than usual. those inhumanly blue eyes were hidden behind his typical shades, masterfully tailored suit adorning his lanky form like it was painted on. his deep red button up, the same color as your cocktail dress, was unbuttoned for the first three (because he was a slut.) and to top it all off, he was wearing that same award winning smile that he’d dazzled you with so many years ago. if he wasn’t so set on his goddamn desserts, you’d bend over and spread your thighs for him right there on the counter.

“holy fuck,” is the first thing he says to you, grip on a bouquet of what looks like dark red carnations and burgundy roses tightening as he takes you in. he takes off his glasses as he draws in closer, pure reverence in his eyes the whole time. “angel, you look…you look fucking edible. my god. what a woman.” you’re not new to satoru’s comments and compliments, far from it, but tonight, they were hitting a little different, for lack of a better term. maybe it was the look in his eyes, some kind of compound of love and burning desire, but something else, too. something almost…determined, but you don’t know what he’d be determined to do other than put on a good show.

“so, eat me then,” you tease, though the heat in your cheeks and your eyes not meeting his gives away how flustered he’s got you. he’s still looking you over, scrutinizing every pretty inch of you with an overwhelming intensity before his steely gaze levels to yours.

“mm, tempting, but it’ll have to wait; we have to go get engaged first. these,” he holds the flowers out to you, “are yours, my arrestingly beautiful queen.” you can’t help but to laugh at his ultra-corny pet names, but they warm your heart nonetheless, rising from your stool to find a vase to fill with water.

“where were you, anyway? you show up all dressed to the nines on me out of nowhere. what, did you get ready in the car or something?” you ask, back to the white-haired man while you dig around in a cabinet.

“suguru helped me out, kept my suit and let me shower at his place..” he says, almost distantly. you can’t see it, but satoru is watching you, worshipping you with his eyes as you flit around the kitchen in your heels and your dress and your oh so seductive aura. he’s never seen anything or anyone be more mesmerizing in his life, and he knows he never will.

arriving at the first restaurant of the three satoru had planned has your nerves alighting. what if they knew you were faking it? god, how disgraceful that would be—caught in your goober of a boyfriend’s silly scheme would have you too embarrassed to show your face in public for at least two months. but then he smiles at you from the driver seat- a genuine one that eases your anxieties and soothes your concerns, one so brilliant that it instills you with the necessary confidence to go commit…whatever form of fraud this whole thing is. you give him one in return, reaching out to cup his cheek before you’re leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his lips. you can feel him smile even wider when you do.

“so, how much do you want me to sell this? ‘cause, if i cry now, it might not be so believable at the next place.” satoru’s pushing in your chair when you speak, smoothing his hands down your shoulders before giving you a squeeze. he takes his own seat, flipping the menu open to browse through the beverage list.

“best as you can with no tears. gotta save those for the last one,” he tilts his glasses down to send you a wink, and, for the millionth time within your relationship, you’re light-heartedly rolling your eyes at him. “you got it, baby. but! if you don’t share whatever disgustingly sweet, sugar-stuffed, chocolate-drizzled, candy-coated bullshit you ask for, it’s gonna be your pretty little ass.” he laughs at your threat and throws his hands up in resignation. you might be smiling when you say it, but you surely aren’t joking, and he knows it.

you both decide to keep dinner small and light, knowing you’re going to gorge yourselves on whatever insulin-raising dishes your dear boyfriend chooses to indulge in. it’s not long after you put your fork down when he gives you ‘the look.’ you have to use all of your willpower not to smile, woosah-ing yourself into the role of an unsuspecting girlfriend about to be proposed to. you paint a look of surprise on your face when he gets down on one knee, giving you a charming little speech about how he’d “wanted to do this for so, so long” and how he “could never love another the way he loves you, never want to. so please baby, will you marry me?” it’s actually rather romantic, makes you wonder how close it all is to his true feelings for you.

you and satoru hardly ever explicitly talked about marriage, but he did always talk about how he wanted to be with you forever (or rather, that he’d jump off a bridge if you ever broke up with him, but that wasn’t as eloquent.) he’d mention plans of a big house he wanted to put you in, so he could come home to you and your warm embrace every day until he was old and wrinkly beside you. so, maybe not an outright “hey, we’re getting married some day,” but it was most definitely implied.

at the end of satoru’s little scripted scene, he pulls out that same heart-shaped ring box from the table, opening it up to showcase a square cut diamond, one you’re sure must be a piece of costume jewelry for the occasion. you gasp, climbing out of your seat to throw your arms around him with a “yes! yes, i’ll marry you!” he picks you up, standing back up to his full height as he delicately sways you back and forth. you share a kiss, one you let a few secret giggles into, before you part, allowing your boyfriend the pleasure of sliding the ring onto your finger. the patrons of the restaurant that’d been watching the spectacle all clap at what they believe to be a genuine display of affection, including your waiter from his station near the kitchen. it’s a lot of attention, but being with someone that looks like (and acts like, and is) satoru means you’re relatively used to stares and whispers. he gives you one more sloppy smooch before he’s helping you back into your seat, giving a bow of thanks to the other customers before he’s sitting, too.

when the waiter comes back to offer up your grand prize, with eyes dampened from your well-acted performance, satoru keeps it simple and orders a non-nauseating plate of assorted mochi ice cream. and when it comes to the table, he plucks one of the cold, sweet little treats in between his long fingertips and reaches his equally lengthy arm across the table to feed it to you with not a lick of selfishness. fuck the dessert, he’d share the entire moon with you if it was in his possession.

“babe, we fucking killed that. that lady? in the black blouse? she was crying, like, actually crying! i almost feel bad, but that mochi was to die for, so i’d say it was a worthy crime.” you jabber excitedly on your walk back to the car, hand in hand with your stage fiancé. he’s staring down at you as you prattle on, knows he should be watching where he’s going but fuck, you’re so stunning and you go along with his admittedly very childish desires for free sweets and yeah, he really is so whipped, it’s not even funny. he’d never deny it, either—the man who carries multiple pictures of you in his wallet and as his phone background, the man who gives you massages and shares from his candy stash when you’re on your period, the one who can’t get mad at you when you fall asleep on him during a movie he really wanted to see? there’d be an ice-cold day in hell before that man—the only gojo satoru—ever denies being hopelessly, foolishly, irrevocably in love with you.

the second restaurant that you and satoru pull your scheme on is a tad bit more upscale than the first—not to say the first eatery wasn’t upscale, would never be the case with your luxury loving boyfriend—and you absorb your surroundings from your place on the man’s arm while he checks your reservation in with the maître d. for this place, as fancy as it is, you think you’ll tone down the theatrics, keep it a little classier this time around. you don’t want to embarrass yourself or satoru with some overly acted performance that screamed fake. the suited man behind the counter leads you to a table, not smack-dab in the middle of the dining area but not very secluded either, something perfect for the exhibition you were going to put on.

“you know, you’re setting me up for some very high expectations, ‘toru,” you speak from behind your wine glass, eyes on what would be his if it weren’t for the glasses he still wears. he looks up from his menu, head tilted inquisitively.

“is that so?”

“mhm. that ring you got looks nice, but you’ve spoiled me. i’m gonna need one way bigger now. and,” you pause, taking another swig from your glass, “you’ll have to really surprise me. i mean, this restaurant is really nice, but if you keep this up, we’re gonna run out of fancy restaurants for you to actually propose to me in. there’re only so many, y’know.” your tone is coated in sarcasm, but satoru doesn’t laugh. instead, he smirks, closing his menu and placing it to the side.

“don’t worry your pretty little head about that, sweet girl. you’ll be very surprised when it happens.”

the meal is delicious, as expected, and your plates are cleared soon after. satoru’s laughing at a story you have about your neighbor’s adorable little kitty cat that keeps trying to sneak into your apartment while he pours you another glass of an unnecessarily expensive wine he insisted on.

“are you ready?” he asks when you finish, and you give him a short nod, quick to prepare yourself again for the false astonishment you have to give and the onslaught of eyes that were soon to be on the two of you.

he reaches across the table to take your left hand in his, eyes peering up at you over his glasses when he leans down to press his lips against your ring finger.

“i love you,” he murmurs before he’s up and out of his seat. he approaches your side of the table but he doesn’t do his part of getting down on one knee yet, opting instead to cup your cheek with a hold so gentle you’d assume he thought you were made of glass.

“i mean it, i really do love you more than anything in this world.” you don’t have time to respond to the declaration before he’s descending to his knee, taking your hand yet again as he gives you another speech. this one is different than the last, but just as full of genuine love.

“you make my days worth living, baby. you make the sun look like a streetlight in comparison to how much you light up my life. you’re so funny, so smart, so generous, and you put up with the…less than favorable parts of my personality with very minimal complaints.” he says that last part with a little bit of disdain and it has you giggling in a way no one else can bring out of you, despite your slightly glossy eyes. “my perfect girl, will you marry me?”

and there it is, the ring box you’d been waiting to see since you stepped into this establishment full of onlookers. he opens the box and slides the ring onto your finger before he even gets your verbal answer, but it doesn’t matter because you’re nodding and smiling like a damn idiot, as if it’s real. you try not to dwell on that thought for long.

“of course i’ll marry you, satoru.” he carefully pulls you up out of your chair and cups your face again, this time with both hands, lips against yours in a kiss much more serious than the last time you did this. there’s more applause following suit, but you can’t pay attention to anyone but satoru, who’s kissing you so deeply that the restaurant could be burning to a crisp and you would be none the wiser. when you part, he’s grinning, a little bit from the wine buzz and a lot from the adrenaline of proposing to his gorgeous girlfriend, staged as it was.

your waitress is quick to congratulate you both, and when she mentions the one thing that satoru came here for—that goddamned free dessert—he lets you choose. but you’re so generous, his sweet little sweetheart, just like he said in his speech, and you pick something sugar-stuffed, and chocolate drizzled, and so fucking satoru that it makes your teeth ache. you’re always, always, thinking about him, and he loves you all the more for it.

when you get to the last restaurant/soon-to-be victim of theft of services, you’re feeling very practiced in the art of deception. the tears you were able to evoke out of the unknowing guests, and the ones satoru almost pulled out of you had you unwaveringly confident in both your own and satoru’s level of skill as thespians this time around.

this place is a far cry from the previous two and you can tell before you even step foot inside, the architectural marvel of a building radiating the energy of one of those “sorry, we’re booked 3 years in advance” kind of places. you have no doubt that satoru could get in anywhere if he wanted to, though- the man was quick to offer bribes well into the range of some people’s entire salaries. if he wanted something, he was unrelenting, tenacious even—traits you admired greatly about him.

the moment you step inside, you start to feel a little swell of anxiety. this was..intense. the lighting was much more moody, with floor to ceiling windows giving the diners a view of a beautiful garden, lush with greenery. you and satoru had dined well before, but this was something entirely different. he leads you to the reception desk where another maître d, not dissimilar to the one before, greets you with an air of extreme professionalism. satoru gives the man his name, and you’re left a little confused when his eyes widen in what you think is surprise. he gives your boyfriend a quick nod before he dashes off, and you try not to focus too much on how expensive this place must be or why satoru would come here of all places for a free dessert, but it’s hard not to. the wall behind the reception desk is practically covered in plaques of awards, the words “michelin star” and “winner of..” plastered on most of them. you know those aren’t easily earned, so you try to think less about the exorbitant cost you know your boyfriend is paying, instead doing your best to enjoy this probably once-in-a-lifetime dining experience.

the man from before returns, with another more sharply dressed man, who grins wide when he sees satoru and yourself. he shakes your man’s hand firmly, giving a nod of his head in the direction of the dining area. the restaurant is gorgeous, past that really, but a little under-populated for satoru’s plan to have it’s most effectiveness. besides, what’s the point of a fake proposal if no one is gonna see it?

you mention your previous thoughts to satoru once you’re seated, but he just gives you a smile and says “don’t worry about anything other than enjoying yourself.”

so you don’t. you reminisce on funny, and sometimes embarrassing stories about your past with satoru—sharing laughter, and food you can’t fucking pronounce, and glasses of ridiculously high-priced alcohol.

“you’re the most wonderful woman in the world, angel,” he muses some time down the line, “thank you. i don’t fucking deserve you.” his words have you putting your glass down, reaching across the table to mirror his earlier actions by taking his hand, with your face set into a frown.

“i don’t like it when you say things like that, satoru. you do deserve me..because i say you do. you’re not- you’re not hard to love, satoru; it’s actually very, very easy. and i love loving you, and i’m gonna keep doing it every fucking day that you’ll have me. okay? so none of that,” you say, squeezing his much larger hand in your own.

“what if i wanted to have you forever?” he asks, eyes still hidden behind those increasingly unnecessary glasses. the restaurant is far more dimly lit than the first two, but the urge to complain comes only from how much you miss looking into those dazzling blue pools.

“well, i’d give you forever and then some. you’re not getting rid of me, ‘toru,” you grin, taking the stem of your glass between the fingers of your free hand and lifting it to your lips. satoru follows the movement behind his shades, watches how the delicate line of your throat bobs with your swallowing with a sort of reverie that is usually described in religious texts. he’d pray for you, pray to you, anything. he’d learn how to sculpt just so your beauty could be immortalized for all of eternity.

satoru says your name and you hum, quick to swallow down the rest of your sake before giving him a sweet smile with your eyebrows raised.

“i hope you meant what you said—about forever.” you’re about to ask him what his foreboding words mean but you’re interrupted by none other than satoru himself, rising from his seat for the third and final time this evening to bring himself down to one knee. you’re about to laugh and quietly chide him for not giving you time to prepare for the show when you hear the sound of a piano, looking over your shoulder to see a man sitting at the once unmanned instrument. you turn further still and see that all of the staff has crowded around the edges of the room, all holding intricately crafted bouquets of..dark red carnations and burgundy roses, much like the one he’d given you, both granting you space but still wanting to watch the grand gesture that your boyfriend prepared.

“satoru, what’s….did you call ahead or something? this is…kind of a lot for a dessert i could make you at home..” he smiles and shakes his head at your endearing ignorance to the situation, reaching up to pull his glasses off for the first time all night. those eyes that you missed so much, they were rimmed with a faint redness. you couldn’t help but act on your instincts, reaching out to cup his face in your careful—caring—hands. you don’t get the chance to ask him what has him tearing up so much before he starts, a speech entirely new leaving his lips.

“if you think that loving me is easy, then loving you is child’s play. loving you is…one of the greatest gifts that i have ever or could ever be granted. you don’t always see it, and i like it that way, but sometimes—a lot of times—i look at you like you created the heavens and the earth. you are the heavens and the earth to me. you’re everything to me. your laugh alone could cure me of any ails. i don’t know what i did to make such a beautiful, loving, gentle, smart, hilarious, talented woman fall in love with my stupid ass, but fuck, baby, i thank the universe every day for you. you give me purpose. you give me strength. you give me the want to continue, when it feels like there’s no fight left in me.”

your eyes shimmer with unshed tears, lips parted in genuine shock that you hadn’t expected to feel tonight. you spare another glance at the staff before bringing your gaze back to satoru, voice caught in your throat and tongue heavy in your mouth.

“satoru, if- if you’re playing with me..if you’re doing this for your damn dessert, i-“

“no, baby, this- this is real. you are…the most exceptional person i know. you love me in a way that i didn’t know was possible before you came into my life. i’m so goddamn unworthy of you, but you chose me, and i swear, that for the rest of my life—the rest of our life—i’ll never let you down. please, angel. please make me the most blessed man on the planet and marry me?”

satoru reaches into the pocket of his suit pants as you stare in amazement, mascara tears fully running down your cheeks now. the ring box in his grasp is much different than the one from your faux-engagements—it’s black, shaped like an oval with silver ornamental designs around the perimeter. and when he opens it, your lip begins to quiver.

the ring is something so uniquely satoru, a thin silver band that splits into multiple vine-like channels, with little diamonds attached for the appearance of flowers. they meet at the top where the stone resides, and fuck, it’s big. it’s aquamarine, with several little prongs holding it’s marquise shape in place. it must’ve cost a fortune, and you can’t help but marvel at it as satoru takes your hand in his own again, lips against your ring finger one last time before he’s slipping the delicate piece of jewelry onto your finger.

“i need you to say it, angel. say you’ll marry me,” he pleads, blue eyes shining in the dimly lit space. you can’t hold back the sob that leaves you, nodding vigorously as you caress his face.

“yes, ‘toru, i’ll marry you.” you say through the tears, pressing your salt-covered lips to his. there’s applause behind you, just like the other “engagements,” but this time, you don’t need them there. you’d have said yes to him if it was 3 in the morning and you were half asleep, you’d have said it in the car on the way to the grocery store. you’d say yes to him anywhere, at any time.

true to satoru’s word, he doesn’t bother with the free dessert this time around. he’s too busy thinking about going home and getting a taste of his fiancée to bother with some fancy piece of cake. and he almost doesn’t make it home, pressing you up against the car with his right hand on the side of your face and the other on your waist. he kisses you so voraciously, like if he tried just that much harder, he could swallow you whole.

“satoru, stop!” you giggle against his ravenous mouth, “a public indecency charge wouldn’t be a great start to our engagement, you think?”

“i can’t help it. my fiancée just looks so good, i don’t think anybody’d blame me if i hiked your dress up right here,” he says, leaning his head down onto your shoulder to leave a kiss or two on the bare skin. you gently push him away, coy look in your eyes when you meet his own.

“at home, the dress comes all the way off.”

satoru has you both in the car with the keys in the ignition and the gearshift in ‘drive’ within 14 seconds.

the front door to your apartment is solid wood, and it’s cold against your back where satoru has, yet again, found a surface to press you up against. you barely made it three steps inside before he was on you, groping and squeezing anything his reach would allow. his lips are sweet where they meet yours, kinda like how they always are, from all the desserts and wines he’d indulged himself in. and somewhere in there, a taste that’s wholly satoru resides. it’s your favorite flavor. his tongue never asks permission to enter your mouth—it just does, licking up every bit of you that’s on offer, and it never satisfies his appetite.

“what was that you said earlier, baby? you want me to eat you, right?” he says between his desperate kisses and fuck, when did everything get so hot all of a sudden? the hand you have on his shoulder slinks up, coming to find its place in the short hairs of his undercut, and when you scrape your nails against his scalp he sighs into your mouth.

“you’re not too full from your desserts?” you tease breathily but it cuts into a gasp of surprise when he yanks your dress up and shoves his hand under the bunched fabric to rip your panties off, only to find your bare skin at his fingertips.

“oh, fuck- no panties, baby? y’want me ta eat that pretty pussy this bad?” he doesn’t wait for an answer, snatching your lips up in a quick, biting kiss that leaves you dizzy. he drops to his knees—funny how much he’s done that today—and lifts your dress further, gathering the material up at your waist. the way satoru marvels at your pussy is something he’d always done but fuck, can you blame him? you get so wet and you taste like the world’s rarest delicacy on his tongue and you’re so fucking warm and tight when he digs you out—he’d sing hymns about your pussy from the top of a mountain.

“my pretty fiancée givin’ me such easy access…such a sweet girl you are,” he praises with a kiss to your mound, “so fucking good t’me.” but he’s just as good to you—especially now, as he spreads your thighs and hikes one of your legs over his shoulder, unhesitatingly dipping his tongue in between your soaking wet folds. the contact of the slippery muscle on your sensitive flesh has you mewling, eyes slipping shut as he feasts on you. his mouth is as slick as it is when he’s talking, stroking his tongue up and down from your clit to your hole, and back again.

“fffuck- satoru..” you whimper, subconsciously grinding your hips into his face. he doesn’t mind, though- actually he encourages it; he loves it when you use him for your pleasure, makes him feel good to make you feel good. and that rings especially true now, as he stiffens his tongue and slides it into your aching hole that’s been clenching around nothing this entire time. he fucks you with it, much like he does with his cock- giving you a mix of slow and fast thrusts and keeping you on your toes. his large hands smooth up your thighs before one sneaks away to aid in him pulling you apart. his thumb finds your clit, massaging the little button in circles and you almost lose your balance, your hand flying out to grip onto his snow-like hair. your little mewls act as encouragement for the man between your legs; he’s studied you—your body—for years, and how each little flick and roll and curl of his tongue or fingers brings you closer and closer to cumming all over him. and he uses that knowledge so freely, long tongue prodding and pressing further and further into you, tip of the muscle kissing your g-spot.

satoru knows you, knows that when your thighs shake and your breathing turns to panting, he’s got you right where he wants you. you confirm that for him, when you look down at him to see those sparkling blue eyes staring back up at you and you moan “god, fuck- ‘toru, please baby, don’t stop, gonna cum f’you.” he’s ever so obedient, thumb moving in faster circles around your clit and his unrelenting tongue fucking into you just as quick. he keeps his gaze glued to your face because you look so goddamn pretty when you cum that he can’t bear to miss it. and he doesn’t, watching lustfully as your head sinks back against the door, hips stuttering as he licks the orgasm right out of you.

“out of all the meals i’ve had tonight,” satoru starts, lips shiny with your release when you open your eyes again, “you’re the most delicious.” you’d laugh at how corny he is, but your mind still hasn’t come fully back to you yet. satoru rises back to his normal stature of towering over you, even in your heels, and he can’t help but to dip his head down and kiss you. all those same flavors from before are muted behind the taste of you, and you almost hate to admit it, but you like that a lot.

“i need to be inside of you, baby,” satoru sighs into the kiss, leaning down to wrap his big hands around your outer thighs, and you get the idea quickly, letting him pick you up so you can wrap your legs around his hips. he carries you off to the bedroom, laying you down on the plush comforter that covers your bed. you sit back on your elbows and toe your heels off, eyes following his movements as he takes off his blazer.

“god, you look-“

“fuckable?”

“very.”

“so, what are you waiting for? fuck me, fiancé.”

he takes your invitation with fire in his eyes, moving in close to undo whatever horrid contraptions are keeping you clothed. when he gets the zipper down, he’s practically ripping you out of the dress, tossing the expensive garment off somewhere behind him. he’s pulling his own clothes off just as quickly, and when he gets his pants down you can’t help but to feel him through his black boxer briefs. he’s so hard, and he’s leaking like a goddamn faucet, the wet spot you feel near his tip growing larger and larger. he’s groaning against your neck as you touch him, pushing his hips into your palm desperately. but then he decides that he can’t take the teasing and the waiting anymore, so he’s sitting up on his haunches to shove his boxers down his thighs. he doesn’t even get them fully off before he’s grabbing your calf and dragging you towards him, gripping the base of his painfully stiff cock to line it up with your sopping pussy hole.

“ohmy-GOD, fuck- ah! satoru, slow downnnn!!” you gasp, crying out for him as he slams into you with no warning and sets a pace that could rival a jackrabbit.

“s-sorry, baby, jus’ need you- need you so fucking bad, shit- hnnng, fuuuck,” he moans, gripping your hips tight as he keeps hammering into you. you can’t keep your eyes open as much as you’d like to—satoru always looks so angelic when he’s flushed and panting from the vice-like grip your pussy has on him—but it’s okay, because he moans like a bitch in heat when he’s fucking you and that’s all you need. your nails are digging into whatever they can find, one hand twisted up in the blanket and the other pressed against satoru’s flexing abs as if you’re trying to stop him, but you both know that’s not true.

“so. fucking. wet.” he groans, punctuating each word with a hard thrust. he’s so deep inside that you know you’d feel him if you touched your belly, and the thought has tears of pleasure spilling down to your temples and into your hair.

“y-you feel so fucking good- ah- mmm- look so p-pretty taking my cock like this,” he whines, one hand leaving your hip to find your throat. he doesn’t add pressure, doesn’t squeeze, just lets his hand rest there like he needed to ground himself. he finds himself angling his hips just a little differently, and only a moment later, he knows he’s got it when your teary eyes shoot open and you scream his name.

“right there, angel? my fiancée likes it t-there?” he teases, trying his hardest to keep some composure but fuck, it’s so hard when you clench that tight cunt of yours and suck him deeper and deeper.

“yeeessss,” you sob, “please! feels..so good…love you so much, love the way you fuck me..” satoru moans with you, snaking a hand under your lower back to arch you a little more, and the slight change of position has him hitting your g-spot head on with his merciless thrusts. you cum, wordlessly and unexpectedly, and satoru’s eyes widen as he looks down to see the ring of your cream that covers the base of his cock.

“ohhhh f-fuck yeah, angel, cream all over my dick, ‘s all yours, always- always yours,” he gasps.

he brings you fully into his lap and your arms instinctively curl around his neck, your head falling back as he bounces you on his cock that’s impaling you. you’re both covered in sweat now, and your slick, too—it leaks down around satoru’s dick and onto your thighs. the eye contact he makes with you in this moment is hard to look away from, so you don’t—eyes locked with his while you pant and moan and whimper his name. he does the same right back to you, choking out declarations of his love interspersed with your own name.

soon, the position changes again, when you use the little strength you have left to push satoru onto his back with your hands splayed out on his chest. he groans in surprise, sliding his hands up your hips to hold onto your waist. your gaze shifts between his blissed-out face and the sparkling stone that rests on your finger, grinding against him nice and slow.

“does this feel good, satoru?” you don’t mean for the question to come out as seductive as your tone does, but it has his hips bucking up into you nonetheless. his eyes open to find yours and he nods, digging his fingers into your flesh more when you ride him harder, roll your hips a little faster.

“f-fuck, feels like heaven, baby..keep- mmf, keep fucking me like t-that,” he answers, and you’re his sweet girl, his giving little angel, so you do. you keep fucking him just like that, pulling yourself up and dropping back down on the lengthy cock inside of you. your ass smacks against his thighs on the landing, and it joins your ragged breathing and satoru’s huffs as the only sounds in the room. he can’t help but to meet your hips with his own thrusts, not keen on taking the reigns back but adding to the insurmountable pleasure you both feel.

“will you cum with me? please, ‘toru- need to feel you..” god, how could he ever deny you when you ask so sweetly, one hand still on his chest and the other on yours, palming at your tit with a pinch of your pert nipple every now and then. his brow is furrowed—plush lips parted with his moans and he’s nodding in response again.

“yeah, baby, yeah- ‘m so fucking- hah- c-close.” a look of focus forms in his eyes when one of his hands slips down from your waist, nimble fingers toying with your sensitive clit. your moans rise in pitch and volume, heart pounding in your chest as you get closer and closer to the edge. you can practically feel him pulsing inside of you, know he’s almost there too, and you ride with more determination, tits bouncing with the effort. he looks so desperate from his position beneath you, desperate to cum, desperate to fill you to the brim with his hot load. you’re left gasping, shouts of his name torn right from your throat when he plants his feet into the mattress and starts to thrust up into you, fingers still pinching and pulling at your engorged nub. he fucks into you so roughly, eyes shifting between the spot where you conjoin, watching raptly as his cock slides in and out of your hole, and your sweet face, mouth hung open and tear streaks on your cheeks. both are a pretty sight to him.

“‘m gonna cum, ‘toru- cum for me, too, need it inside me so fucking bad,” you whimper, and you weren’t lying. only a few more thrusts and some circles rubbed onto your clit and you’re crying his name, creaming all over his cock again. and satoru can’t hold off anymore, doesn’t want to, and the way you clench and squeeze him makes that an impossible feat anyway. he stills his hips the best he can but they still stutter with the intensity of his orgasm, letting out rope after rope after rope of his sticky fluid inside of your needy little hole.

you roll off of him when you get the strength to do it, still panting with the exertion. but satoru is clingy, even more so after sex; so with your eyes closed, you don’t see it, but rather feel the man’s hands tugging you close. he drapes his sweat-sticky body around yours, nuzzling his face into your neck where he leaves a few cheeky kisses.

“thank you.” it’s silent for a while before he speaks, and the words have you cracking your eyes open to look at him. he’s already beaten you to the punch, wide blue eyes looking up at you.

“for what?” you respond, bringing your hand up to smooth his hair down. he practically purrs at the sensation, but he answers you regardless.

“for saying yes to me, to forever.”

the snort that comes out of you is unintentional, but you can’t help it. he sounds silly thanking you for that, so you tell him as much.

“satoru, you make it sound like you had to bribe me into being with you when you say things like that. y’know, i meant what i said, about you being stuck with me. couldn’t get rid of me if you tried, baby. this just makes it..more official.”

“guess that’s true, huh?”

“you’re damn right. and when we get married, i’m going to use my new powers for evil.”

“what??”

“oh, yeah. i’m gonna terrorize everyone. pranks galore. and i’ll tell them gojo did it. and they’ll just assume it was mr. gojo, not the kind and sweet mrs. gojo.”

satoru’s jaw drops, sitting up to gape at you. you just shrug in response, smiling innocently at your soon to be husband. he shakes his head, deep in thought for a moment before he grins, eyes hard set on you.

“what?” you ask, playfully narrowing your own eyes.

“i think i want to marry you tomorrow.”

>authors_note: WELL. it’s finally here (took me long enough i knowwwww🤫) ENDLESS THANKS FOR 100 (we’re almost at 200 now but let’s cross that bridge when we get there heheh)

>next up: firefighter!satosugu (after like 3 months of me talking about it IM SORRYYY)

>thank you for reading ♡︎

>masterlist.exe

>send a request here!

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk smut #gojo smut #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x reader

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