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#dedicated my heart and soul and mind to
winter-parrot · 1 year
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there's something deeply Right about watching myself lose my shit over les mis and esp enjolras all over again. it's like. ah yes. this. i know this. this still fits.
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stinkrascal · 1 year
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i swear to god bg3 wants me to become a mind flayer so bad bc i had to reload my save twice last night bc i got turned into a mind flayer mid battle and the whole game ended at one point, and then when i realized why that happened and fixed it, i was turned into a half illithid and had to reload my save again bc i dont wanna be one! like baldurs gate wtf let me live 😭
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sandsofsolstice · 7 months
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(((ok this drawing will probs not be finished so take this sort-of-okay version, an illustration from a scene in the fic)))
Rating: M
Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence + Blood
Pairings: The PolyculeTM (Jackal/Dune/Carrion/Locust)
Summary: During one of his late night patrols, Dune Zerda is ambushed by Sphinx's lackeys. Although he's able to stumble home, he's been seriously stabbed - it'll take him quite a bit to recover. Will he be able to let down his walls and allow his partners to take care of him? Will he brave accepting tender loving care from them?
Excerpt below this line:
“Tell me who did this,” Jackal says. His rage is barely concealed, shaking with fury, all that righteous anger bubbling up to protect Dune. “Tell me who, and I will kill them.”
“Guess who’s little henchmen,” Dune snarls with a scoff. Who else could it have been besides Sphinx’s underlings? No one wants him dead more than Jackal’s ex, the man’s jealousy running even hotter than his vengeance. It makes him wonder why he isn’t well and truly dead in the sands right now.
Jackal’s scorpion-like tail thrashes angrily as he turns towards the door, hands balled into fists, his pacifism abandoned. He can’t quite remember the last time he saw Jackal this angry: maybe the last time he was actually face-to-face with Sphinx? Perhaps it was the time someone had vandalized the graveyard.
“You will make him better,” Jackal hisses, looking at Locust, the man shrinking a little under his gaze. It’s easy to forget that below his quietness and kindness that the man was practically raised to be a weapon. It’s easy to forget that he runs this town, that he protects it. He’s always so… mellow, when he’s at home. Dune wishes he could fully appreciate the moment.
Instead, when Jackal races out the door, pure panic grips his heart. “Go after him,” Dune says, voice shaking. “If anything happens to him-” his voice breaks, cutting him off.
Locust starts to object before cutting himself off. “Go. But be back fast,” he tells his husband, who spreads his giant wings as he runs out the door next. Dune can faintly hear the powerful wingbeats beating through the air. Jackal couldn’t have gotten far, and Carrion’s faster flying then Jackal is sprinting. It eases the pain in his chest, ever so slightly.
“Just us two, then,” Locust says, sadly, holding Dune up by his shoulders.
“I really hope you’re not the last bastard I see,” Dune says back, trying to put some bite behind his words. He wants to argue and bicker with Locust, for things to feel normal, like he wasn’t bleeding out on the kitchen counter.
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hoshigray · 6 months
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Heyyy. Can I request a college au. Reader is an average, socially awkward person but somehow managed to pulled the campus heartthrob, Geto (or gojo). And he's lowkey obsessed with her and try to be fucking her every chance he gets.
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𝐚. 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: why not both? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ idk, felt like doing a threesome for some reason lmao
⊹ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: Geto + Gojo x fem! reader - explicit content; minors DNI - modern au! college setting - sex in public places; gymnasium locker room + dining hall + college dorms - oral (m! + f! receiving) - face + throat-fucking - fingering (f! receiving) - clitoral play (swiping, grinding and licking/sucking) - face-sitting - threesome - double penetration; anal and vaginal - cowgirl dp position - anal fingering (f! receiving) - kissing/making out - protected sex (psa: warp it up or get tf up) - overstimulation - pet names (angel, baby, cutie, my love, pretty girl, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - sato + sugu being whipped over you, hehe~ - slight humor - mention of tears and drool.
⊹ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 5.1k (pretty long for a req, lol)
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“Oh, Y/n, it’s good to see you. Did you have a good weekend? Let’s walk each other to class; I was waiting for you.”
“Y/nnnn! This cold day is so much warmer now that you’re here. Let’s grab something to eat at the dining hall, okay?”
You thought college life couldn’t get any more difficult than it already is. Oh, how you were so wrong… 
Being on your own on campus was hard enough; states away from your family and having to rely on and take care of yourself while also striving for a better education. On top of this, making friends (outside of your roommates Shoko and Utahime) is such a social and excruciating chore as it’s challenging to put yourself out for people to notice you. Making small talk with your peers or talking/discussing group material in classes has your heart racing enough – not to mention trying to commit to clubs – making you feel a bit of a failure as a human being.
With that, you almost dwell on not trying at all. You’re utterly content with your inner circle with your roommates, waking up and heading to classes and back, eating college food, and sleeping after reading for a lecture. This routine of sticking to yourself was a notion you’ve grown to accept and find comfort in — no need to change it if it’s been doing you well this far.
That is until you meet them — Gojo Satoru and Geto Suguru, the best friends of your roommate Shoko. 
Gojo is the star player of the school’s basketball team, a famous face among the class years, and the “disgustingly tactless, cutesy prince” of your year, as described by Utahime. By morning, he’s a dedicated student in his business administration major and history minor classes; by afternoon, he is his playful, social, and charismatic snow-haired soul, grabbing the attention of others and bringing life to those around him with his bright cadence. In addition, he’s a talented figure, capturing the hearts of many with his model work in fashion shows and playing fan-favorite roles in plays.
In contrast, Geto was a much more mellow star that pulled the hearts of students and professors alike. The raven-haired bioengineering major was a boy whose presence was easy not to notice yet quick to pull you in when making himself known. His tall, docile figure emitted an aura that accompanied the soothing tune of his voice, the perfect combination that made him trustworthy and obliging to the students around him and his lacrosse teammates. With the charming features of a heartthrob and the alluring speech of a leader, he’s someone many would turn to in search of a person to follow and praise.
Satoru and Suguru, two complete opposites – two best friends – who are, without a doubt, the twin stars of this school. However, there was one thing the two shared in common, something that made your heart skip and your mind race every time knowing this fact: the two were unmistakably and sickeningly in love with you!
How? You do not know. It all started when Shoko brought them over one night for dinner, and you saw them for a quick moment in the kitchen, quickly greeting them before rushing back into your room. Next thing you knew, you had begun to see and run into them every so often, which soon turned to at least once per day. And now, like a white bubbly puppy and a black, quietly affectionate cat, you could not shake them off you when and wherever you went.
Oh, it was something you were not used to, being sneaked up from behind by Gojo, who’d pull you in for a hug or lift you with every greeting in public (as if you weighed like nothing)! Especially in classes where Geto would surprise you with his calm voice and a warm hand on your shoulder to check if you were okay before claiming the chair next to you. And you couldn’t push them away — how could you when two of the most renowned faces on school grounds want to be around your presence!? Good Lord, it was all overwhelming, Shoko and Utahime having to step in to beat the boys into shape for making you uncomfortable.
And then there are those times when the two would butt heads with each other because of you! There have been a handful of times where if one had you to themselves, the other would bore glares to the former’s skull. Gojo would suck his teeth with his arm wrapped around your shoulder, white brows furrowed and ticked off blue eyes concealed by his dark circle shades. “Yo, Buddha with bangs, can you let go? Y/n promised to hang with me after their classes ended, and I’d be damned if you’d be third-wheeling.”
“That’s not happening, Satoru,” Geto’s hand grasps yours with more grip, royal purple eyes narrowed at his white-haired friend. “Y/n and I have a presentation to work on for tomorrow. Go lollygag somewhere else.”
Two positive bundles of life will immediately turn hostile when it comes to you, suffocating your very being as you’re stuck in the middle of them. It’s bad enough being with either of them has people notice and talk about you; it’s another thing when you’re being fought over like some small bunny between two snarling wolves. Oh God, why me!!??
But it wasn’t all bad. If anything, being fawned over by the two was a strange thing that has happened to you thus far, and not in a terrible way. Gojo has made you a lot more open and social than before, dragging you to parties he’s been invited to and to his crowded games (where he’s always sure to find you and blow a kiss). And spending time with Geto has sparked instances where you’re courageous enough to speak for yourself with a bit of a push from him, throwing in your inputs for class discussions or having him aid you in knowing your material when you two study together.
The two most popular guys in school who flatter and are obsequious over you. That in itself is enough to make your cheeks and ears dial in warmth, shielding your face in your pillows just thinking about them. You like them both, bound to be drawn in by the handsome boys and their pursuit of you.
However, their infatuation was something you’d find out goes beyond words and handholds. An obsession for you embroidered in their very minds…and bodies.
“…Mhahhh, Go—Mmmph! Gojooo…we shouldn’t be doing this…”
“Aww, c’mon, Y/n, you know I don’t like it when you call me by last name. It’s just the two of us here…Fuck, keep licking it like that…”
Sneaking into the basketball team’s locker room is one thing; sneaking in with the star player in the team with you between his legs on the bench and sucking his dick? Oh, that’s a can of worms you never thought you’d open in your entire life. 
Gojo brings his head back, banging on the locker behind him as the contact of your tongue on his pink tip sends shivers up to his shoulders. “Fuuuck, you feel so good, baby. Gonna make me cum again…” You peer up with lidded eyes as you suck his tip into your mouth, him humming at the warm sensation of your mouth swallowing his length whole. Your face is hot of embarrassment, being looked down on by him as you do such an indecent thing on him in a place of changing for men. 
This was his idea – bringing you to the gymnasium to watch him practice with his teammates for an upcoming game. Then, he pulls you aside once the guys want another fifteen-minute water break, bargaining into the men’s locker room and pulling you in for a hot kiss. Sucking on and nibbling on your lips and tongue has you mewl sweetly for him, distracted as he pulls his shorts and briefs down to expose the erection growing inside him. “Sorry, you just looked too cute watching me from the side,” he’d say with a hazy glint in his eyes shielded by his shades.
So here you are, sucking him off to the hilt, where your lips meet strands of his white pubes, making your boyfriend cum for the second time. Gojo brings a hand to your head for purchase, moaning as your hand massages his balls. “—Ahh, fuck…God, you’ve gotten so good at that, cutie. Can’t get enough of you...”
His words burn your ears, his aroused tone making your face even more hot to bear. Gosh, this was such a dangerous game; your nerves constantly on edge in hopes nobody would walk in.
However, your worries might have been what jinxed your fate because you two heard the door to the locker room open. You instantly move your mouth away from Gojo’s cock and stand to panic. But before you could, Gojo quickly grabbed you by the wrist and took you to one of the bathroom stalls. You sat on the toilet, bewildered at being dragged all over this fitness center. Then, Gojo brings his dick to your face again, and you give him the most shockingly confused expression as if he can’t hear the commotion of two people speaking where they used to be.
“Relax, no one’s coming here,” Liar, we almost got caught! He pushes the tip to your mouth, and you murmur on his length, filling your mouth and throat. “Let’s make this one quick, okay?”
You were too busy registering him place his hands on your head before he could slam himself to your mouth; the sudden thrust of his hips propelling his cock deep into the tight crevices of your throat makes you grip onto his shorts for dear life. The slap of his ruts fills your eardrums; you can’t tell how far or close the two guys who entered the locker room are. He’s making you focus on nothing but him — a selfish objection from a selfish man as he’s using you to relieve himself in the men’s locker room. God, this was such a bad situation, and yet your lower half couldn’t stop the throbs that have you shifting your thighs together. How embarrassing! 
“Hhnnn, fucking shit, your throat feels so good,”  he praises, his slender fingers massaging your scalp. Your tongue brushes the underside of his length in a way that has his pace go faster, and he has to keep his moans to a lower volume. “Shiiit, baby, I’m gonna cum…Take it all in…!”
You have no choice but to, forced to gulp down all of his load that he spills into your tight, warm throat. He still rocks his pelvis into you until every pump of his jizz is inside you. When your ears pick up the sound of the locker room door opening and closing with the dismissal of the two strangers, that’s when Gojo takes his long shaft out of your mouth, spit connecting from your tongue to his cockhead is wiped with haste. 
But then, Gojo pokes your cheek with his tip, a sign that he wants to go again. You throw quiet pleas, “N–No, Gojo! You have to get back to practice—“
“Shhh, those guys can survive a few games without me. And besides,” he gently slaps your cheek with his cock. How vulgar! “I’ll fuck your mouth til the end of the day if you don’t stop using my last name when it’s just the two of us here.” The playful grin on his lips doesn’t make that threat any better. “One more time, please?”
With hesitant eyes, you place kisses on his shaft while stroking him. “Only one more…okay, Satoru?”
He beams with the dimples of his cheeks. “Yes, pretty girl~.”
And it doesn’t stop there — because Geto is no better. 
“Aww, you two are so cute together~”
You squirm on the booth seat you’re sharing with your other boyfriend, you two sitting across from his friends — a senior couple he shares a lab with that invited him for dinner. Unsurprisingly, you were his plus one, knowing you’re not one for being around people you’re not familiar with. And yet here you are, caged by the wall and Geto’s frame to keep you in this conversation on the side of the busy dining hall.
Geto chuckles before brushing your cheek, "Aren’t we? But they’re the cutest thing to me.” He says as he places a swift kiss on your cheek; it’s an action that has your face grow in warmth — and the couple “awwing” at his affection.
The guy of the couple speaks to the dark, long-haired other. “I never knew you were one for relationships, Geto; you seem so busy with Bio and your clubs that you don’t seem to have time to lay low and be with someone.”
“Mmm, I thought so, too. That is until I met Y/n through a friend of mine,” you jerk at the silent touch of his pinkie grazing your thigh, noting it had sneaked under your skirt to graze its skin. Your eyes peek in his direction, finding that he remains eye contact with the guy he’s talking with. “And, you know, I got to know them here and there, shared some classes with them on the side. Now, I just can’t imagine them being out of my line of sight.”
The guy across laughs. “Sounds kinda obsessive!”
Geto shrugs with a chortle. “I guess it’s like that, I don’t know. I’m just really crazy about them; they’re my sweetheart after all.”
“That’s so sweet!” The girl senior across exclaims, turning to you to ask, “So, how long have you and Geto been a thing, Y/n?”
The question has you stumped for a bit as you weren’t ready to be thrown inquiries. And before you answer, you feel Geto’s hand rub on your thigh. “U-Umm, me—ahem—Geto and I have been a couple for quite a while now? My roommate was the one who introduced me to him—Mmmm!” You briskly flatten your lips at your squeak because the fingers inside your skirt pinch your skin. On command, you spread your legs for Geto to insert his hand inside your panties.
The girl asks more questions. “Oh? So, your roommate brought you two together. Did you know of them before?” 
“Well, not really…She and Geto—Ohh!” You bring your hand to your lips at the graze of Geto’s forefinger on your clit. You turn to him and are immediately locked into his violet gaze. He lifts a brow with an undisturbed smile, and you gulp. “I–I mean, Suguru and my roommate have been best friends since high school, so I kinda got…Nnmm,” you chew your lips when he bullies a digit between your folds to play and tease. “She was the one who introduced me to him…”
“Is that so? Hehe, it’s amazing how the world works, huh?” You listen, but your mind is too focused on Geto’s digits swiping and nestling across your wetness to have your body more excited about his touch. And it gets worse as he inserts his forefinger inside your vagina, causing you to jolt and suppress your mewl by leaning into his shoulder, gripping onto the sleeve of his turtleneck. “Here are two lovebirds all lovey-dovey with each other thanks to one friend bringing them together. It’s crazy imagining you two would’ve never met hadn’t that happened.”
Geto hums at that comment, “I agree; I have to thank Shoko for bringing this little angel to my arms.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead, completely nonchalant compared to the quickened pace of the digit scraping your insides. “Isn’t that right, my love?”
With trenched brows and a shaky breath, you try to reply to the awaiting couple. “Mhmm, yes, I’m so grateful that Suguru is in my life…He’s been such a help to me,” his forefinger goes slow, having you feel every dent and knuckle. “Hahhh, he’s so good to me, and I love him just as mu—Mmmph!!”
“Hmm? Are you okay, Y/n?” How can you tell the guy across from you that your boyfriend’s thumb just surprised your clit with a swipe?  You’d rather melt on this floor had you not buried your face into Geto’s shoulder. 
Speaking of who, he takes the initiative to answer for you. “I think they’re a little parched, must’ve been this lemonade I got for them. I’ll go get them some water—“
“Oh, no, no! I’ll go get the water; I was gonna get more of those garlic knots anyways.” The girl stops Geto from moving, sliding from the booth seat with her boyfriend’s hand to follow suit. “C’mon, let’s leave these lovebirds for a bit. We’ll be right back!”
And so they leave, thanking your lucky stars. Once their figures are nowhere to be seen within the sea of students, you probe the man with a trembling whimper. “Mmmph, Suguru, please, take it out before—Ahhh…! They come back…”
Luckily, he listens to your request with no argument, withdrawing his digit from your wet slick and underwear. And to your horror, he brings the finger to lick and suck and says with a dark look, “Just checking to see what I’ll be having later.”
It doesn’t matter wherever or whenever; Gojo and Geto will be sure that their love for you is expressed to you every chance they get. 
It doesn’t matter the day or hour, whether you are free from assignments, spending time with your roommates, or on your way out to study; those two will find a way to get to be with you. And, to be honest, it can be a bit overstimulating! 
When there are dates to the movies with Gojo, there’s private alone time with Geto on his bed as he eats you out. And when there are days when Geto holds hands with you and walks you to your classes, there are nights when Gojo will fuck you til his cock is warmed inside you in his slumber. It can go either way, the two competing for your affection and time when the other is out of sight. 
Again, sometimes it’s overwhelming for you, never knowing which of the two will have you all to themselves, nor knowing when you can have time to yourself! And it’s not like you haven’t tried putting your foot down to express your wish to be alone. But, albeit it can be utterly exhausting, you know those two love and cherish you so much that it drives them crazy. Hell, it’s driving you crazy just how much they can’t keep their hands off you! 
Especially now when they drag you to their shared dorm room, experiencing one of those days when the two wish to have you in the same presence. 
“Hahhh, damn, Y/n…you’re sucking me off so good,” Geto purrs with a whistle while lovingly patting your head. “So good for me, huh, sweetie?” 
The two stripped you off your clothes to be nude with them on the bed. Your naked frame straddles above Gojo, lying on his back with his face buried into your bare cunt for his mouth and tongue to please you orally. Meanwhile, you suck on Geto’s girth as he leans on the pillows and headboard. It’s his turn after sucking off Gojo (they settled this over rock-paper-scissors) and fingering you to warm you up first.
You whine of his member, Gojo’s tongue doing wonders on your delicate body. He licks on your clit just as you lap yours around Geto’s glans, and then he’ll suck your pearl right as you take in the tip with pursed cheeks. It’s such a mutual shared experience, with how Gojo’s hands wrap to your thighs to keep your chasm on his lips while you have Geto keen to your mouth and hands stroking him. 
“—Khhhh, Jesus Christ…Hohhh, right there, sweetie…” The raven-haired one coos as you kiss your way down to his balls to suck one as you continue to jerk him. “Heh, you doing good down there, Satoru?”
The snow-haired other removes his mouth from your folds, licking your essence that sticks to his lips like honey mixed with his saliva. “Hahaa, you have no idea. I could stay like this for hours,” his tongue licks your come to your clit tantalizingly slow, evoking you to almost choke on Geto’s girth. “Aww, look at you trying to move from me,” Gojo brings your hips back down to him for him to swirl around your labia, his grip on your thighs refusing to submit. “Don’t go anywhere, princess; I’m not finished until you cum on my face again.”
“Ohhh, shit, keep doing what you’re doing, Satoru,” Geto subtly bucks his hips, “I love the way they’re whining on my dick…”
With your puffy lips being busy in the front and your cunt being lapped and nibbled on from below, your senses are clouded by the two boys who seek nothing but your participation in experiencing pleasure. Your head gradually turns into mush with every rut to your throat and every lap around your clitoris. It’s to no surprise that your release seeps out of your body without preparation, crying on Geto’s length as your frame quivers in euphoric bliss. 
And if you think you couldn’t get swamped enough, think again. 
“—Nnngh, fuck, Y/n, you’re gripping on my dick like crazy…Hehe, is it because you can’t look me in the face? Damn, you’re such a cutie…”
Your face is nuzzled in the crook of Gojo’s neck as you’re straddling on top of him, your nude, sweaty bodies melted together to share heat. Your hips bounce up and down on his pelvis, where his rubber-covered length is scraping the walls of your vagina. His left curve grazes and jabs your sweet spots, and your body lies on top of Gojo, which brings more friction to your clitoris. 
“Hahhh, ahhnn—Ohhhh!” Your phrases have doubled down to that of whimpers of pleasure, thinking straight is impossible, and your mind is too deep in a haze to focus on anything outside of what’s happening. And it’s not like you can’t stop your hips from bouncing on his shaft — you’ve tried! But the moment your legs express so much as reluctance or fatigue, Gojo’s hands are right there on your ass to guide you back into the rhythm. So it’s expected when you climax on him once more, clamping onto him as you ride out another orgasmic wave. “Ahhaaa! Sa’toruuu, stooohhp—hic…! I’m ‘oo sens' tiveee!!” 
“You say that, but—hnnn! You’re rocking those hips of yours on your own, baby.” He chuckles at your slurred speech, placing kisses on your cheek as his hands massage your asscheeks. “Holy shit, you feel so unreal; wanna fuck you raw so bad with how tight you are.” 
“Don’t even think about it, Satoru,” you hear Geto’s voice from behind, the dent of the twin-size bed shifting with his added weight. “If I can’t go condom-less, you’re not getting any special treatment out of it either.”
“Psssh, yeah, yeah,” Gojo says with rolled azure eyes before he whispers to your ear. “Come on, angel, let’s get you prepped up.” The white-haired boy’s hands spread your butt, exposing his dick buried deep into your tight slit and your taint.  
Geto grins salaciously. “My, what a dirty sight for me, my love.” You chew your lips to his words, the heat in your ears causing them to ring. You then feel his fingers smothered in lube to meet your asshole, spiraling around it before inserting them one by one. Your holes instinctively contract, making Gojo hiss. “Relax, pretty girl,” he kisses your temple. “We’re gonna make you feel so good.”
You remind your figure to calm down, allowing Geto to play with your anus for it to accommodate the next foreign limb he’ll put inside. Gojo keeps kneading your butt, but he throws furtive thrusts up to your chasm to keep you on your toes. You gasp when Geto removes his digits suddenly, and now you bite your bottom lip at the contact of his cockhead touching your puckered entrance. “Stay calm for me, princess. Gonna go slow just for you…”
Breathing with your mouth is the only way you can function through his insertion; even after he properly lubed himself and the rubber, it never fails to amaze you how you’ve been able to take in his girthy dick times before. Every inch pushed inside you feels as if your breath is pulled away, feeling both your holes become occupied. And your head goes up at the snap of Geto’s pelvis smacking on your ass, mouth agape for drool to sneak down puffy lips. 
“Heh, there you are,” Gojo licks your spit before placing a kiss on your lips. “What a pretty face when you’re going dumb on our dicks, Y/n.”
You couldn’t even reply in modesty because Geto immediately goes pounding your ass with hunger. Your wails come out freely at the pacing of both boys propelling themselves into you. And it doesn’t help that your holes don’t stop contracting on their dicks as they push, the motion making you move your clit against Gojo and having your sore nerves active again. 
“Holy fuck,”Geto drills his cock into your taint, grinding his hips into you to make you whine aloud. He then bends to kiss your sweaty shoulder down to your spine. “You’re so tight, Y/n…like you’re gonna milk me dry.”
Words are exhilarated squeaks and shrills, your arms coming around Gojo’s neck and pressing your hot cheek on his. He snickers at how touchy you are, “Hey, baby,” he coaxes you through the onslaught of ruts that quicken in tempo. “God, you sound so fucking cute, angel…” 
“—Ahhahh…! Ohhh, guysss, pleaseee, slow d—Owwhhnn!!” You cry, eyes watering with the pokes and jabs on your velvety insides, the curve of Gojo scraping you in places you can’t reach, and Geto’s girth having your backside completely stretched for him. It’s all too much to focus on as your delicate bud is pressed on by your weight. “…Nhooo, God, I’m gonna—“
“Gonna cum, cutie?” You nod hurriedly, amusing Gojo for more chuckles. “Let’s cum together, yeah? Such a pretty girl…” And then, Gojo claims your lips for a steamy, passionate kiss, bringing a hand from your bottom to place behind your head to keep you on him. 
“—Hnngh!! Wait, sweetheart, don’t clamp onto me so sudden—Ohh, shit, shit, shiiit,” Black hair strands fall from Geto’s shoulders as he falters at your grip. “Gonna cum, too….Gahhh—“
Your crescendo is the first to appear, howling and mewling into Gojo’s lips while your trembling figure undergoes the shocks of the deep penetration on both ends. The fluttering sensations of your cunt and anus are what prompt the two men to spill their load into you simultaneously, groaning with pleasure from your body. Your head is undoubtedly dizzy, your brain spiraling with impulses as your frame jerks with every wave of your orgasm. 
After his climax is done, Geto slowly withdraws his cock from you. The condom filled with his essence. “Phew, that felt way too good.”
“For real, can’t get enough of this.” Gojo sighs while groping your asscheeks and kissing your forehead. “Ready for another round, baby? C’mon, let’s switch before Suguru gets all crybaby on us.” His sweet tone immediately flips to narrow his eyes at Geto for throwing his used, tied condom at Gojo's face for that comment. “Oh, you disgusting son of a bitch…”
“Shut up and switch, or else I’ll have you watch me pound Y/n for fifteen minutes.”
Being loved and obsessed by the two heartthrobs of the school is no easy work, which is evident when you can’t even get to nap by yourself after the sexual activities. With Gojo spooning Geto while he spoons you, there is no rest with these two; they might as well put collars around their necks and give you their leashes with how smitten they are to be around you.
Yet, at the same time, you don’t hate it — far from that. Because you know their feelings for you are genuine, you can see it in their sleeping faces as they’re probably thinking about you in your dreams as you observe. With a smile, you place kisses on their cheeks and silently leave the bed to use their shower. 
The warm water is just as welcoming and temperate as their love, keeping you safe and washing your anxiousness away. In your thoughts, you reflect on all the times you’ve grown because of them, and it goes to show that their involvement has done substantial help for you. And for that, you are forever grateful for them and will always reciprocate their feelings as you feel the same. 
“Hey, Y/n.”
Well, minus the immediate sense of apprehension that skyrockets once you hear Geto’s voice come behind you. You turn to see his naked self coming towards you to wrap his arms around your waist. “Suguru!? I–I thought you were sleep—“
“I was until you left my arms,” he says to your ear with his dulcet voice, his hands kneading the flesh of your wet hips. “Besides, saves us a lot of time if we share the shower, right?”
“Oh, Y/n~,” another voice enters the bathroom, and your dread plummets even further when Gojo opens the curtains with glee. “Don’t tell me you decided to shower without m—…Oh, you’re here, too.”
“Obviously,” Geto sucks his teeth at his roommate. “I live in this apartment and use this same shower, dumbass.”
Snowy eyebrows crease with irritation as Gojo enters the walk-in shower, sandwiching you between the two. “Well, don’t you think it’s rude for you to use the shower when our guest is using it first?”
“I could be asking you the same thing because who told you to come here?”
“Duh! I’m here to shower with my lover; are you stupid?”
“Are you? Don’t you see a boyfriend is trying to have some alone time with their partner?”
“Oh, eat horse shit.”
“Croak and die.”
You can only stand there and be mushed by the two tall boys arguing over you, unable to flee the scene as they both have their hands on you. Again, you don’t hate it at all. You love them just as much as they love and adore you. They may be the school favorites; however, you are the most precious thing they wish to engage with and want to keep to themselves.
…But would it kill them to give you some room once in a while!?
Jesus, how am I gonna survive with these two…
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requests/thirsts are open hehe~ 🧸
© 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲2024 – reblogs and comments are appreciated wholeheartedly ☆ header edit done by me + dividers by @/benkeibear.
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opheliapurple · 4 months
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One of my favorite things about Arthur and John’s weird relationship is their refusal to properly delegate.
In quite literally every other shared-body story in the history of mankind, working together in tandem with each other would be one of the very first things attempted.
Sure we have “ORTHUR, Jesus Christ orthur they’re dead. They’re all dead. FUCK orthur, it’s Thomas the Tank Engine. He’s staring at you orthur. There’s blood everywhere- WE NEED TO GO-“ etc etc, but that doesn’t count. They fail every single Quick Time event that crosses their path because sometimes John will deliver information, sometimes Arthur will make an action, and neither will happen at the same time.
They both act like they’re just standing very close to one another. They have the problem solving capabilities of two people losing a three legged race.
They are tasked with minding a lighthouse flame upon pain of mysterious and creepy monster-death and god forbid BOTH of them pitch in at the same time. Could you imagine either of them being that reasonable? Their hearts would give out under the strain.
Instead tweedlestupid with one hand and zero eyes minds the light while tweedlestupider with one hand and two eyes dedicates every sense available to the crusade of maintaining their back and forth pre/post/current divorce level bitching.
But even before that, the way they chose to tackle the feat of driving was as insane as it was hilarious. That’s when I knew they were incurable morons and deserved to be stitched together on the celestial plane for the rest of their arcane lives.
Tldr: You could merge the consciousness of any other two souls on this planet together and get a more immediately capable pair. That’s how you know they’re soulmates.
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freelancearsonist · 2 months
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every breath you take
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➔ (no outbreak) Joel Miller x f!Reader
➔ 5.3k words
➔ Your dad is getting married to his soulmate and you have every intention of making it the perfect day. The only kink in your plan is your unexpected feelings for your soon-to-be stepdad’s best man.
➔ Rated MA // BILL X FRANK SUPREMACY. LONG LIVE BILL X FRANK. no outbreak, age gap (reader is early 20s, Joel is 45), unprotected p in v sex, creampie, fingering (reader receiving), references to masturbation (reader), pussy pronouns, pet names // reader has female anatomy (no body description but is generally able-bodied) and uses feminine pronouns, is Frank’s adopted daughter (written for all skin tones), wears makeup and a dress, has hair (unspecified length)
➔ Big big thank you to @sugarcoated-lame and @sunlightmurdock for this idea and letting me run with it (sorry it took 5 months 😂) this is psuedo-inspired by my own current activities as my best friend's moh which is why i haven't been super active in the past month or so, thank you to everyone for being so patient with me <33
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June, 2013.
After months of planning—stress, sweat, and tears abounding—the big night is here. Well, almost here. The actual wedding is tomorrow, but tonight is the rehearsal dinner; and as your adoptive dad has spent the entire preparatory period impressing upon you, the rehearsal might be even more important than the wedding itself.
With that in mind, you arrive at the venue a few hours early to assist with the set up. Seeing the unassembled pieces and parts of the event brings a smile to your face and a determination to your soul–you want this to be perfect. 
Someone else shares your determination, too.
You would’ve sworn, when you first met him, that an elaborate wedding would be the very last thing Bill would want. And yet this has been as much his planning as it has been your dad’s. It brings so much joy to your heart that your dad has found someone who matches him so completely. You couldn’t be happier for them; and at the same time, you couldn’t be more frustrated for yourself. Because, as dedicated as you are to making this day perfect for them, Bill’s best man and long-time friend is maybe even more dedicated. He’s been turning this wedding into a ‘friendly’ competition between the two of you, trying to one-up you at every opportunity he gets. It’s infuriating—especially when he wears that smug grin that’s become his signature expression around you. It’s torture, too, because all you want to do is kiss that stupid smirk right off his handsome face.
It’s unintentional on his part, you’re sure, but the tension is palpable enough to slice with a butter knife nonetheless. Today is no exception—he’s dressed for labor in worn jeans that are just a little too tight around his thighs and a faded Iron Maiden shirt that hugs his strong biceps. His hair is ruffled like he’s been tugging and running his hands through it, and it puts all kinds of indecent thoughts into your brain.
It’s wrong. The guy’s old enough to be your dad, and that’s aside from the fact that he’s your soon-to-be-stepdad’s best man. No self-respecting young woman should be looking at a guy who’s old enough to remember the Nixon administration the way you are right now. And yet…
“Mornin’, sweetheart,” he says in that drawl of his which makes you want to throw your sanity out the window and fall at his feet to worship the very ground he walks on.
You’ve never hated Joel Miller more than you do right now. 
Regardless, you greet him with the sweetest smile you can muster. “Good morning. I didn’t know you’d be here this early.”
“Well, rehearsal’s as important as the weddin’ itself,” he dutifully repeats the line that you’ve heard from your dad a million times over. “And this barn ain’t gonna decorate itself.”
“Well, that’s kinda my job,” you remind him, hoping your tone sounds more annoyed to him than it does to you. 
He flashes that boyish smile that no middle-aged man should be able to master, and it makes your heart skip a beat. “Can’t let you have all the fun, can I?”
You want to grumble about it. You want to be annoyed by this goofy-ass forty-five year old man and his stupid competitive streak. Instead, your mouth betrays you by smiling. “I appreciate the help.”
“Anytime, sweetheart.” He punctuates it with a wink, and you consider just falling onto the ground and perishing. Instead, you roll up your shirt sleeves and get to work.
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The fruits of your labor are well worth the effort they take. You feel a heady sense of pride when you look around at all the decor–as long as this barn has been a wedding venue, you’re certain no one’s ever made it look this good before.
The tables are arranged neatly in rows, draped with luxurious white tablecloths and topped with neat arrangements of greenery in the centers. The seating chart that Bill and Frank worked so meticulously on is put into effect with hand-written placards designating each chair to an occupant. Strings of white globe lights hang from the rafters and cast a hazy, reverent glow over the entire barn. Everything is the perfect mix of modern and rustic.
Outside on the lawn, rows of neatly arranged chairs line a petal-scattered aisle. Everything leads to the focal point–an eight-foot high arch wrapped generously in green vines and white blossoms. It’s definitely the highlight of the entire thing, which irks you just the slightest bit–it was solely Joel’s vision. Apparently, he’s a lot more artistic than you’ve ever given him credit for. It tracks, you suppose; construction is an artform if you really think about it. He uses his hands to create just like a sculptor, but to a larger scale. And those hands are capable; you’ve seen exactly how much they can move or carry and you wonder if they could–
You shake off that train of thought before it can go any further. If you can’t get yourself under control you’re going to start wearing a rubberband on your wrist that you can snap every time your thoughts about Joel stray into the ‘things you shouldn’t be thinking about a middle-aged man’ category.
He certainly has aged like fine wine for a forty-five-year-old man, though…
Snap.
With a sigh, you give your head a shake in hopes of clearing your mind and take a look down at your watch. You’ve finished with perfect timing–you’ve got about two hours to go home and get cleaned up before you have to be back for the rehearsal dinner.
You look for Joel for a few moments before leaving, but he’s nowhere to be found. It puzzles you a little bit that he wouldn’t at least say goodbye before leaving, but then again he really doesn’t have to answer to you. It’s a well-needed wake up call, a reminder that your feelings–can whatever you’re going through really be called that?–your attraction, is one-sided. He’s here for Bill and Frank, not for you. You’re his best friend’s daughter and nothing more, and the realization washes over you like a bucket of ice water.
You hate the way it sends you spiraling on the drive home. You hate the way you care so much about what he might think of you. You hate the way that you have to look at yourself in the mirror and give yourself a stern talking-to about needing to let this whole stupid crush go. You hate the way that you can’t even pretend the extra layer of mascara you apply isn’t for him.
You avoid Joel the entire night, which isn’t easy to do. You have to walk down the aisle next to him during the ceremony rehearsal but you avoid his eye contact, taking a twisted little satisfaction in the way he frowns when all of your replies to his chit chat are short and clipped. Dinner is easier–both Frank and Bill sit between you and Joel, so there’s no attempted conversation to deflect from him. But you could almost swear you feel his eyes on you, as if he’s looking right through your dad and soon-to-be-stepdad.
Joel is puzzled, to put it simply. One second, he’s got you in the palm of his hand. Then a moment later, you’re looking at him like you might look at a bug you stepped on and got stuck to your shoe.
He puts it out of mind as much as he can. He’s not supposed to be looking at you like that, after all. He’s not supposed to be admiring the perfectly kissable curve of your shoulder or the biteable expanse of your neck. He’s definitely not supposed to be wondering what you’re wearing under that adorable dress of yours. You’re his best friend’s daughter, for god’s sake. You’re so far off limits that he shouldn’t even be looking in your general direction.
But he is. He’s looking, and he can’t stop looking. And most of all, he can’t stop wondering if you feel it too.
Evidently you don’t, because you won’t even take his arm as you practice walking up the aisle in preparation for the big day tomorrow. You’ve probably figured out how much he’s been thinking about you and the kinds of things he’s been thinking, and you’re disgusted. He’s just a dirty old man to you, surely.
Little does Joel know that you come on your fingers moaning his name practically as soon as you’re through the door of your hotel room that night. You fall asleep before you can feel too ashamed about it–blissfully unaware that Joel’s doing the same exact thing just a few doors down.
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You wake up in the morning with much more clarity than you usually have, especially at 9AM.
No matter what, today is about Bill and Frank. You get to be part of a true love story, the kind that your dad used to read about to you in bedtime stories when you were a little girl. That knowledge steadies your mind more than anything else ever could.
You jump into the shower and try your best to tame your unruly hair before shuffling down to the dining area on the ground floor of the hotel. 
Bill and Frank really spared no expense on this place. All the food is fresh and hot, replenished every few minutes. It smells incredible–there’s overlapping waves of pastries, sausages, eggs, and fruits. It’s almost overwhelming; there’s way too many options.
After you pile up a plate with as much as your stomach can comfortably handle, you make your way over to the table your father occupies by himself.
“I was wondering when you were going to show up,” he says through a mouthful of cantaloupe.
“Decided to sleep in a little,” you explain. “Where’s Bill?”
“He already had breakfast, he’s getting ready,” Frank explains. “Joel made out a whole schedule for us, put us on different shifts so we don’t see each other before the wedding. It’s bad luck, after all.”
You snort through a bite of biscuits and gravy, because that’s such a characteristically Joel thing to do. From what you know of him, he thrives with routine and function–you’re surprised he doesn’t have you working off of a schedule, too.
A small, annoying part of your brain thinks it’s really adorable that Joel plays into that whole superstition. Another, more sensible part tells you that nothing Joel does is adorable and you’ve really got to stop thinking about him so much.
“How’re you feeling?” You ask, looking up at your dad through a bite of blueberry muffin.
“Relieved, honestly,” he admits with a chuckle and a twinkle in his eye. “I finally get to marry my best friend today, with my other best friend by my side.”
You hide the way the comment makes you choke up behind another bite of your breakfast.
There have been a lot of times where you’ve gone unwanted in your life; starting right at birth, continuing with unrequited crushes and lost friendships. But one person has always wanted you and been there for you through thick and thin. Frank picks you up every time no matter how hard you fall, and you feel so unbelievably lucky to be in his life. 
If anyone deserves a fairytale ending, it’s Frank. He always puts the people he cares about first, and now it’s his turn to shine. You’re not letting anything get in the way of that–especially not stupid, unrequited feelings for the best man.
With a little more resolve in your mind, it’s easier to get ready for the main event.
Every step of your preparation has been immaculately planned over the course of months. From your dress to your make-up, to your hair, not one detail has been overlooked. It takes you more than an hour to get ready–but when you’re ready, you’re a vision. Even though you’re not normally the type to enjoy looking into the mirror, you have to admit to yourself that you look stunning. 
Your traitorous brain wonders if Joel will think the same. 
With a heavy sigh, you grab your bag and your car keys. You really wish you had a way to shut those intruding little wishful thoughts off–they’re doing more harm than good at this point. 
You take a deep breath, shove as much as you can down, and resolve to have a good time celebrating your dads–then you open the door and set out towards an unforgettable night.
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Whatever kind of shock and awe you were hoping to inspire in Joel, it’s surely nothing compared to the rush you feel as you find him in the bridal party lounge.
You’ve never seen him quite so put together. He’s normally a bit undone–a symptom of being a long-time bachelor–but today, he’s perfectly styled. The hair he’s been growing out is slicked back into gorgeous curls, his black tuxedo pants hug his hips like a dream. He’s in the process of fastening the last two buttons on his impeccable white dress shirt and every bone in your body screams to stop him–to keep that peek of his tanned chest on display for your hungry eyes.
You have a fearful moment of thinking you actually made the request aloud, because he does stop in his tracks when his eyes land on you. His lips part in shock and his pupils dilate and he freezes. Fingers that were once absentmindedly completing their task drop to his sides as he murmurs something that sounds suspiciously like “wow.”
“Need help?” You offer before you can think better of it.
There’s a long moment of tense silence, and then he nods silently.
Your mouth is dry as you approach him, trying desperately to keep your cool. Your clammy palms are definitely not the most qualified to complete this task for him, but you can’t back down now. With a deep breath–you’re so close now that it fills your nose with the spicy, intoxicating scent of his cologne–you will your hands to stay steady and reach for his shirt buttons.
His lead tongue finally remembers how to work as you fasten the first button. “You look… incredible.”
“So do you,” you whisper. Just when you think you’re out of the woods, ready to step back and breathe properly again, his hand comes up to offer you a bow tie.
“This too?” His warm brown eyes search yours–how could he ever expect you to say no?
“Y-yeah. Sure.” You turn the collar of his shirt up, then carefully fasten the tie around his neck. The band is perfectly configured to his neck, the bow already tied–all you have to do is secure a hook through a loop. He could’ve easily done this himself; and yet he didn’t. He wanted you to do this, and that particular bit of knowledge sends a rush of heat burning through your veins. 
Maybe this whole song and dance isn’t quite as unrequited as you originally thought.
Your fingers brush his warm skin as you smooth his shirt collar back down over the band of the tie and it’s like an electric shock that shoots through every inch of your body. You’ve stuck a fork in an outlet and you want to do it again.
You’re done with your task, yet you can’t bring yourself to step away. He doesn’t either–for seconds that feel like hours, you look into those dark eyes and feel his breath against your face and you finally have the courage to do something about it. You’re going to kiss him, just lean in a little further and–
The sound of the lounge door opening makes your body jolt with the force of an actual fork in an outlet.
“There you are!” Frank’s got an untamable smile on his face–his hair is impeccably gelled back, his white tuxedo tailored to fit like a glove. The sight of him, so close to everything he’s ever wanted, brings tears to your eyes. “Wow, you two look amazing.”
“Hey. Thanks.” You’re fighting with all your strength to keep your voice even and calm despite the compliment. The reality of your father’s happily ever after comes crashing in and you’ve never felt so proud. “First look time?”
“Yeah,” he confirms with a nod. “Is Bill–?”
“Dressin’,” Joel answers after clearing his throat. “I’ll bring ’im out when he’s done.”
“Perfect, thank you.” Frank takes your hand to lead you outside, but not before you look over your shoulder at Joel. He looks thoroughly disheveled despite his sharp appearance–you’ve gotten under his skin. Good.
Thank god for waterproof make-up because you nearly lose your whole face during the first look. Not that you’re wearing much, but it’s enough that it’s jeopardized by the tears your treacherous eyes shed despite trying in vain to will them away.
You’ve never been so happy for two people before. You’ve never seen two people more in love. In their matching white tuxes, with their matching watery eyes, as they turn to greet each other for the first time today, you know that Bill and Frank are a forever thing. It brings you a sense of peace that you never knew was possible.
At some point, you become conscious of the fact that you’re holding Joel’s hand. You know you probably shouldn’t, that you could get both of you in serious trouble–but he’s not pulling away, so neither do you.
The true test of your mascara comes during the ceremony–it passes the test with flying colors, which is truly impressive considering the tsunami it has to hold up against. You’ve never really been a wedding cryer, although you suppose no one would blame you for this one. You’re hardly the only person walking away with tissues to their eyes. Bill and Frank have loved so hard and fought for so long in order to obtain this day–it’s nothing short of incredible to see them finally seal their union with vows.
Before the reception, you pop into the bridal lounge to make sure you’re still presentable. A couple tissues later and you’re good to go, but the sound of the door opening and the lock clicking into place stops you in your tracks.
Joel’s standing there, looking like a dream. Curls slightly disheveled from the wind, top two buttons of his shirt undone with his bowtie hanging out of his jacket pocket. His eyes are slightly red-rimmed, albeit not as bad as yours.
His breath seems to catch when he sees you–he clears his throat before whispering, “Hey.”
For a long moment, your tongue is too heavy to speak. Every ounce of desire from earlier comes rushing back in a flash flood of emotion. It’s just you and him and tension so palpable you could grab ahold of it.
“H-hey,” you breathe. Earlier, you were ready to do something drastic. Now, all the familiar doubts come crashing back in. Are all these feelings one-sided? Were you just seeing what you wanted to see? The feeling of his hand in yours is burned into your palm. Does he feel it too?
“I think it went pretty well,” he hums. His hands are tucked into his pockets, thumbs twitching unconsciously as if he’s nervous.
“It was perfect,” you agree.
For a moment that seems to last a lifetime, you both stand toeing the line. It’s right there, unseen but waiting to be crossed. You don’t know if either of you have the courage it takes to step over it.
And then he moves; he breaks the tenuous balance of platonic and something more by closing the distance between you.
“You really do look amazin’,” he breathes, hands clenching indecisively at his sides. “I mean, you always do, but–”
You grab him before he can finish his sentence. ‘Don’t Go Breaking My Heart’ is blaring on the outdoor speakers as your lips finally meet his. It’s been weeks, maybe even months, of dreaming about this moment. It’s better than you ever could’ve imagined.
The world fades away as his breath becomes yours. There’s nothing but the feeling of his tongue sweeping across your bottom lip and his hands gripping your waist and his curls tickling your forehead. Nothing but the sound of his deep groan and the desperate thrum of his heartbeat underneath your palm as it slides up his chest. Nothing but finally feeling complete.
“W-we shouldn’t…” he murmurs, but he doesn’t dare pull away. His steps sound like cannonfire as he backs you up against the wall, a march towards something deliciously irreversible as his tight grip on your waist bunches the fabric of your dress up. Nothing has ever felt as right as his entire body surrounding and swallowing you this way.
“I want to,” you breathe against his lips. “Do you?”
“God, yes.”
Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and tug him closer, desperately wanting every inch of his body pressed up against you. Just as he’s starting to pull the skirt of your dress up, the song outside changes to ‘Don’t Stand So Close to Me’, strangely apt but also a reminder that you don’t have time. You made this playlist yourself–you know that there’s only three more songs after this one before you’re supposed to be ready for the bridal party entrance to the reception.
“Joel…” you moan out. “Joel, we have to be quick.”
“How quick?” He questions between searing kisses down the length of your neck.
“Ten minutes at the very most.”
“Shit,” he grumbles. He doesn’t pull away though–if anything, he pushes you back harder against the wall. “You still wanna do this?”
As much as you want to say yes, as much as you want to say fuck the reception, you can’t do that to Frank and Bill. “You think ten minutes is enough time?”
“If I can’t make you come in ten minutes I’ll eat my own fist.”
It makes you shiver in conjunction with the way his hand slides feather-light up your thigh.
Even the ghosting touch of his calloused fingertips on your sensitive skin has you aching for more. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna drive me crazy.”
The cocky bastard has the audacity to actually wink at you. “That’s the plan, sweetheart.”
You drag his lips back to yours with a renewed sense of desperation, relishing the gentle scratch of his trimmed beard against your chin and under your palms. “It’s definitely working.”
“Good.”
You know this is territory that you probably shouldn’t be crossing into, not when he’s twenty years older than you and he’s your new step-dad's best friend, but you can’t be brought to care when those deliciously rough fingertips are slipping under the hem of your panties.
“Shit, sweetheart,” he grumbles against your lips. “She’s soakin’ for me.”
“A-always is,” you gasp out. 
His fingers sweep through your folds, gathering as much slick as he can to swirl around your sensitive clit. He smirks at the way your hands tighten on him even at the lightest of touches.
“That how you like it, sweetheart? Nice and gentle?” He presses a little firmer and a grin spreads over his face at the gasp you let out. “Oh, that’s it.”
“Joel, please…” Your hands move to his arms, squeezing tighter than you probably should but you can’t help it when he’s touching you like this. It’s exactly what you need and he knows it–he watches your face for every little indication that he’s doing a good job.
“Please what?” He purrs quietly. “What do you need?”
You could go on like this for hours, you’re sure–and you’re sure he’d be more than willing. You could stay here in his arms forever and let him work you over until there’s nothing left in your head but his name.
The song outside changes again, and you know forever will have to wait.
“Fuck me,” you plead. “Need you.”
“It’s gonna be tight, sweetheart.” You’d think he was being overly confident if you couldn’t feel the size of the bulge pressing against your thigh.
“That’s okay. Please.”
“Alright, sweetheart.” In a flash he’s got his belt undone and your greedy hands are more than happy to assist in shoving those perfectly pressed pants down his sturdy thighs.
You can’t help the gasp that bubbles out with the sight of him. He’s big. There’s no debate. The flushed tip of him is peeking through mouth-watering foreskin, red and flushed as if angry it’s not inside you already. You’re devastated you don’t have time to take that thick length into your mouth, to make him shudder and shake until he’s begging to fill you.
Later, you remind yourself.
“Still sure about this?” He asks, tone no longer brimming with the urgency and arrogance from just a few moments prior. He searches your eyes intimately for any hint of hesitation–the last thing he wants to do is to push you.
You’ve never wanted anyone more.
“Yes,” you breathe. “Please, Joel.”
“Easy, honey. I’ve gotcha.” The hand between your thighs moves to coat him in your slick–for a moment, you’re mesmerized at the sight of his big hand working over his cock. “Gotta tell me if anythin’ doesn’t feel good, ‘kay?”
“I will, I swear, just please–”
The rest of your sentence gets lost in a breathless moan with the first gentle thrust of his hips. Even just the tip is a stretch–one that has your nails digging into his shirt-clad back and your thighs tightening around his waist.
“Shit, sweetie,” he purrs, voice liquid gold. “Gotta relax, gotta lemme in–”
You manage to loosen your thighs a little and it gives him the space he needs to press all the way in to the hilt–the feeling of him filling you completely is nothing but breathtaking. A broken groan tumbles from his lips–you can feel the way his breath hitches from how his forehead is pressed against yours. It’s nothing short of heady, to know that you have such a profound effect on a man you thought might be immune to you.
“Good?” He questions in a whisper. One of his hands is hooked under your left knee to keep your leg up around his waist; the other strokes absentminded patterns over your right hip, as if unconsciously soothing you.
You give him a shaky nod in response. “Good.”
The pace he sets is the most delicious kind of torture. You both know you’re in a time crunch, so Joel is more than happy to employ the most toe-curlingly relentless speed. Every slick thrust of his cock makes your eyes flutter–little breathy moans escape your lips with fervor as he pounds deep. He's hitting every single spot all at once and then some. All the while his lips trace around your neck and jaw, careful not to leave marks but whining quietly as if he’s tempted. As if he wants nothing more than to claim you in a way that everyone can see.
You moan out his name and the hand on your waist comes to help, settling between your bodies and finding that perfect rhythm from before. You’re finding out that he’s a very intuitive and quick learner–you would certainly praise him for it if you could find the breath to do so. 
The way his hips work–driving him deeper than anyone’s ever been; the way his fingers swirl–bringing you to the brink in mere minutes with the most thigh-shaking friction; the way his mouth works, sucking just light enough on the sweet spot behind your ear so as not to leave a mark… it all builds and builds and builds, leaving you breathless and trembling and teetering on the edge of pure oblivion.
“Y’feel like fuckin’ heaven,” he gasps out against your cheek. “Never gonna get enough.”
The words alone send white-hot pleasure shooting down your spine–you’ve wanted him so badly for so long, and now you know he’s wanted you too. It feels even better with that satisfaction, with the fact of winning the prize you’ve been coveting so deeply.
“Joel…” You want to tell him the million thoughts that are rushing through your head, but your lungs aren’t cooperating. 
“I know baby,” he murmurs with a particularly devastating thrust. “I know. S’okay.”
It’s too much and simultaneously not enough. You dig your nails into his shirt to tug him closer, a silent plea to get him working against that spot again. He complies without words, hitching your leg a little higher around his waist and angling his hips in a way that makes you cry out his name again.
“I’m gonna–”
“Yeah, go ‘head,” he purrs breathlessly. “Lemme feel it, come all over my cock.”
His fingers press a little firmer against your clit and that’s all you need for the knot in your stomach to unravel with blinding force. It travels through every nerve like some delicious form of spontaneous combustion, making your body shiver with the energy of it. It’s the best you’ve ever felt–you don’t think you’ll ever get enough of it, either.
“That’s it honey, holy shit…” He murmurs before finally meeting your lips again for a breathless and panting kiss. “W-where?”
For a moment, you have no clue what he could possibly be talking about. His thrusts are losing rhythm with each moment, as if he’s about to–
“Inside,” you whine out after your moment of clarity. “Please–”
“Shit,” he spits even as he drives himself impossibly deeper. “Y’sure?”
You’re not even conscious of nodding your head–all you know is that you need him completely. “It’s safe. Promise.”
“Atta girl,” he whispers. “Gonna leave you fuckin’ drippin’, won’t be able to stop feelin’ it all night–”
His head tips back as the first wave crashes over him, eyes squeezed shut and mouth dropped open as his hips grind into yours. There’s nothing short of pure ecstasy on his face with the first few ropes of cum that fill you. You’ve never seen anything quite as beautiful as the pleasure washing over this gorgeous man’s gorgeous face. Knowing that you’re the cause of all this nearly sends you over the edge all over again.
He grunts as he shoves himself a little deeper, eager to feel every inch of you as he unwinds. “Christ, honey… squeezin’ me so goddamn tight.”
“Not my fault you’re huge.”
He chuckles at that, staying seated deep within your walls for a moment longer so he can kiss you again. It’s lost its edge of desperation, but it makes up for it with an overwhelming note of sweetness. His hand cups your jaw to guide the angle and once again you’re struck by that overwhelming sense of rightness. It’s like you were meant to be here, meant to take everything he gives you and more, meant to love him.
The song outside changes to ‘Every Breath You Take’, the song before the entrance song, and you spring to action.
“Shit, Joel, we’ve got to go.”
He pulls out with an overdramatic groan, as if it hurts him to be separated now that he knows what it feels like to be joined. You can feel the drip start even before his hand comes to fix your panties, but there’s hardly enough time to worry about that.
“How’s my make-up?”
“Perfect, darlin’. Not a thing outta place.”
“Thank god for waterproof,” you chuckle as you straighten your dress.
His dark eyes meet yours as your hands smooth out his rumpled shirt–there’s still so much swirling behind them, so much promise of things to come.
“We’ve gotta go,” you repeat when he halts by the door.
“Just a sec,” he murmurs. And then he pulls you in for one final, saccharine sweet kiss. “Come to my room w’me tonight.”
“Okay,” you promise–you’re surprised you can keep your voice even when just the question makes your heart skip a beat.
“Thank you.” It’s genuine, earnest. It makes your heart skip another beat.
He takes your hand before unlocking and opening the door, and he doesn’t let it go until he absolutely has to.
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candy69gurl · 5 months
Text
INSUBORDINATION
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PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader
SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.
WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), breeding kink, clit slapping & rubbing, man handling
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Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.
"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.
Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.
He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.
"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.
A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.
How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.
He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"
"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.
Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."
Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.
In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"
Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.
"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.
Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."
His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."
"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.
Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."
His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."
"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.
Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."
His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."
His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."
"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."
Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.
"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.
Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.
"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."
You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.
"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.
Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."
He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.
Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."
As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."
Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.
Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.
With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.
Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"
He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.
"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.
"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.
"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.
"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.
He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"
"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.
Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"
You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."
Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.
"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.
Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.
Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."
Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.
Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.
"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.
Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"
Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.
Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.
Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.
His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."
You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.
You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."
Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.
Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"
"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"
Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.
"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."
You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.
"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.
Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.
Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.
Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."
"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."
Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"
He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.
Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."
"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.
Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.
"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.
"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.
Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"
"Bastard", you reply.
He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"
"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.
His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"
"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.
He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.
"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"
"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.
Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.
"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.
Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."
Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.
"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."
You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.
"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.
He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.
"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.
"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.
Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.
"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.
"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.
"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"
Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."
Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."
Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.
You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.
He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."
You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.
Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.
Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".
Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.
Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.
"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.
You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.
Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"
You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"
"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.
"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.
"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.
"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.
"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.
"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"
Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.
Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"
"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.
Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.
"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.
"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.
Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."
"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"
Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."
Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"
"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.
Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.
Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.
"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.
Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.
Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."
"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.
"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.
"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.
Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.
You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.
He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.
"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."
"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."
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DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune
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minhosimthings · 4 months
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Lucifer|| Prolouge
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Synopsis: After you found your husband cheating on you, you found a different kind of comfort in his devilishly handsome colleagues.
Pairings: detective 02z × fem!reader
Warnings: angst, fluff, suggestive, minors please do not interact, catcalling, mention of alcohol, reader is cheated on by Heeseung, cheating (which I do not condone in real life)
A/N: Prologue for my 02z short series everyone! I abandoned everything else after Enha dropped Memorabilia just to write this BECAUSE I CAN. I will try to put out the oneshots as early as possible and I hope all of you will enjoy it! Au revoir!
Taglist: Open
Series Masterlist
Crystalline tears filled your eyes as you walked under the dark azure sky. Your feet ached, your heart thumped hard against its prison and your mind spun and yet you kept walking. Walking somewhere, you didn't even bother to understand.
Adjusting your skirt, and moving your scarf down to reveal your bloodied lips from having bitten them too much, you tried to recall what had happened today that made you so miserable. Was it the broken coffee machine, or was it the recent murders in the newspaper? Or was it a person? Perhaps it was the latter.
Heeseung.
You loved Lee Heeseung. With all of your soul and all of your heart you loved him all the way through the bright Mays and the chilly Decembers. You loved him in a way only the setting sun could love the ocean, the way its rays danced with the water so gracefully.
And yet you caught him in your own bedroom, strong sinews of muscles handling another girl's lusty bones, as she merged her body with someone you thought belonged to you.
His apologies went deaf to your ears, you spent an hour or so packing up all your things and driving out the house without a second thought. You didn't even realise how much time you spent screaming your head off at him, trying hard to stop your tears from escaping their barrier as you shoved each and every gift he ever gave you into his arms and asked him to burn them to the ground. And yet you didn't know how to cope without them either.
Your mother never taught you how to handle grief without alcohol and your father's blood always seeped through your mouth in words of fire and fury everytime something went wrong. It was no wonder you had found comfort in Heeseung, a man who could handle all of your pain and all of your anger.
You had trusted him with your life, marrying him happily to escape your childhood home and entrusting in him your most beloved secrets, your love and dedication and your virginity as well. You thought that had been enough, staying home whilst Heeseung worked his ass off at the police station to provide you with everything you could ask for and more.
And when he came home, you were his toy, a plaything for him to release his stress on and yet you didn't budge. Why should you? When you were recieving all the pleasure you could ever want and giving all the pleasure back to your husband. Nevertheless, you stared at your empty ring finger now, hands shivering in the cold as you scolded yourself on not wearing mittens. Heeseung used to scold you too.
Lee Heeseung. What would you have done to absolutely irradicate Lee Heeseung?
You had parked your car at the nearby park where you knew it'd be safe, and had gone for a walk. Thoughts rushed to your mind. You had known about Heeseung's affair for some time now, but you wanted to catch him in the act, to prove to the world, to yourself, that your melancholic delusion could be justified. Here you were now, dragging your feet across the cemented pavement, knowing there's only one other place you could go to. The darkness was a bad place for a woman to be, at 10 pm but you didn't give a single fuck about anything as your prosaic body tried to get itself up. You swore you could have heard voices behind you.
"Hey, hey you!" You heard a voice shout behind you, "What's a pretty lady doin' in a place like this?"
You gulped in fear as your feet sped up. Stupid stupid girl, you thought to yourself, should have stayed in the goddamned car!
"Hey you ignorin' me?" The voice shouted again, and you could hear the gruff footsteps which followed you, getting closer by the moment, "Stop fucking runnin' away from me!"
Your heart pumped blood faster as you picked up your skirt and ran, at the fastest speed you could. This wouldn't have happened if Heeseung was here!, you thought, and though a part of your brain tried to scold you about still thinking about him, at the moment all you were focused on was getting somewhere safe.
The man's drunken voice could still be hear by your ears, and his harsh footsteps told you he was running behind you, chasing you as if you were a wild mongrel to be caught and leashed.
Only one place. Only one place you could go now.
Turning swift on your feet, you ran down the wide lane filled with shops on one side and the empty road on the other, being careful not to crash into the glowing streetlights, as your destination came into your visage.
The police station. Where you knew, your last hope would be standing.
|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|•|
"Got the Samson case solved yet?" Sunghoon yawned and stretched his limbs above his head, like a prosaic cat, "Man I could do with a drink right now."
"It's 10 pm." Jake checked his pocketwatch, running his hand through his hair as he always did, "What bar is going to be open at this time?"
"Hey, should we steal Jay's stash?" Sunghoon glanced, with mischievous eyes at Jake, who mirrored an equally mischief filled smile back.
"Don't even think about touching my bourbon." A dark haired man, with eyes as black as kohl, walked in, equally black gloves decorating his hands, "Unless you want to be stuck on traffic duty all week."
"Who pissed in your cereal today?" Sunghoon snickered, leaning back in his chair, a crack of his bone could be heard as he lazily stretched, "Let me guess, Heeseung?"
"Is it about his wife again?" Jake groaned, hair tangled in his hand again, "Jay, just leave it man, they'll sort it out."
"Sort it out?" Jay looked at the long haired man with a quizzical look, "What kind of a man cheats on a beautiful woman and brags about it?"
"Most of them." Sunghoon broke out into his drawer, hands reaching for a eloquent wooden pipe, which he lit and transferred to his mouth, sighing out the smoke as he relaxed into his chair, "You're too righteous to understand that, Jongsoeng."
Jay wrinkled his nose, as Sunghoon blew a puff of cigarette smoke into the air. Settling into his own chair, Jay's eyes flickered towards Heeseung's desk, where files lay messily scattered. A solitary photo frame brightened up the lonely atmosphere of the desk. Lee Y/N, Jay thought, his wife, not yours.
"Jay, come on, stop sulking over your little crush," Jake scoffed, his hands busy with a sleek, brownish-yellow bottle in his hand, "Just have a drink and get your mind off it."
"First of all, how did you get into my bourbon cabinet." Jay snatched the glass from Jake's hand, and toyed with it protectively, "Second of all, I can't just get my mind of it. I mean, come on," He extended his glass out to Jake who poured the elysian liquid into Jay's glass, "Who the fuck would have the gall to cheat on such a pretty woman who loves him to bits?"
"Look, you like her right? And don't say no, we all know it Jongsoeng." Sunghoon leaned forward in his chair, "So when she finds out about everything, just offer to take her home and, you know, let her sob into your arms and then take her into your bedroom and-"
"Since when did you start reading romance?" Jake chuckled, pressing a glass of bourbon to his lips.
"Since lover boy here started crushing on..what's her name? Y/N wasn't it?" Sunghoon laughed, taking another piquant drag of his pipe, "I get it, she is really pretty."
'Really pretty' was one way to describe you, Jay thought, smiling into his glass of bourbon. Every inch of you called out to him, beckoned him closer and closer to your poisonous radius. It wasn't that he didn't try to fight it, lusting after another's wife, but it was that he found that hidden sadness in your eyes heartbreaking everytime he looked into them.
"Want to head home, fellas?" Jake briskly sat up straight in his chair, "Or are either of you going to stop at a brothel?"
"Don't have time for that." Sunghoon chuckled darkly, putting out his pipe, "Plus I've got a-"
Bang!
The door of the quite airy police station burst open with a loud bang, and it seemed as if a hurricane in the guise of a panicked woman had swept in, alarming the three detectives. The sudden action caused them to act on their reflexes, pulling out their revolvers faster than their eyes could comprehend the sight in fron them. Jake's eyes seemed to work the quickest.
"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Jake called out, signalling the other two to lower their weapons. He stepped forward and turned a switch on, which caused the entire room to light up in bright light, contrasting to the soft yellow light that earlier shone from the desk lamps.
Jay's senses had seemed to ding up after the initial shock of the entire thing, as he walked forward with careful steps towards you, as Jake and Sunghoon whispered to each other, making out why you were here. Your eyes took a moment to register the man in front of you.
Jay Park, you thought, a man who was perfection incarnated.
"Y/N," Jay spoke softly, careful not to frighten you, "What are you doing here? Are you alright?" He looked you up and down to check for any disfigurements.
"I-" you spoke, your throat tightening by the moment, "Heeseung—he" you couldn't speak any more as his name uttered out your mouth. Bursting into tears, you buried your face in your hands as you felt your cheeks burn up with embarrassment. You really weren't crying in front of your (ex) husband's colleagues, men who you barely knew, apart from the usual condolences.
You felt warm, strong muscles pull you into their hold. It felt like a cozy cocoon, scented with the fragrance of pine and paper.
"Calm down, doll," Jay whispered into your ear, his hot breath fanning your neck, "take a breath for me."
Jay coached you through breathing in and out, which restored some of your consciousness. You had nearly been on the verge of fainting, with how much you had ran.
"Can I—May I sit down for a moment?" You asked, weary of the other two men's eyes watching you, "Please."
"Of course." Jay said, supporting your figure with his sinews as he led you over to his cubicle. You could see the other two hastily clearing out messy piles of papers. The shorter one, you assumed was Jake, from his drooped posture and lion-like hair. The taller one then, had to be Sunghoon, with porcelain skin and an ice cold gaze.
"Did-did you walk all the way from your house?" Jake questioned, offering you a seat, which you gratefully collapsed into.
"No, just the park nearby." You shot him a small smile through your croaky voice, which he returned, "My car's still parked there though. I drove from" you stopped in your words uncertain to say his name, "-from Heeseung's house."
You felt the tension in the room as you said those words. Heeseung's house, you thought, it had been home once. You felt Jay shift his position in the chair next to you, and Sunghoon transfer his weight to one foot, whilst leaning on the desk.
"If you want us to go beat him up, we'll gladly do it." Sunghoon offered, making you chuckle and shake your head.
"No it's fine, I mean she wasn't that pretty anyway, he's bound to lose interest in her some day or the other." You smiled, to no one but yourself. Humour had never been your strong suit.
"Aww man I really wanted to beat him up." Sunghoon feigned defeat, "Asshole deserves it for how much paperwork he gave me."
"That's the only reason you want to beat him up?" You raised a brow at the light skinned man, who raised one back.
"And for betraying a pretty lady of course." He winked at you, making you internally roll your eyes.
"Would-would you like some bourbon?" Jake awkwardly offered you a glass. You could see the embarrassment in his eyes the moment he asked the question, "Or water if you want-"
"I'll take the bourbon." You grabbed the glass from Jake, who, with his shocked eyes poured you a glass, which you downed immediately without flinching in front of the three startled detectives, "Can I have another?"
"Can we have some too?" Sunghoon smirked at you, grabbing his own glass and beckoning Jake to pour him a shot. Jay, admitting defeat, had grabbed a glass too, filled with the bubbly alcohol.
"Well," Sunghoon raised his glass in a toast, "to Heeseung hopefully getting bored of the other woman."
"Peculiar toast, Detective Park." You laughed, "I like it."
The moments that followed still felt like a fever dream to you. You had sat in a building, alone with three handsome men, talking down right shit about your husband, whilst drinking more bourbon than you ever had and although you had already defeated Jake in drinking (almost) half a pint, you still wanted more. This definetly was not on your itinerary for the evening, but did you care at this point? Absolutely not.
"Ugh fuck." You swore under your breath. You probably shouldn't have drank that much, but in all honestly, it would have helped to relieve some of the painful memories of the night.
"Woah steady there." Jay looked at you cautiously as you stirred in your chair. Jake was on the verge of passing out, having even taking his glasses off, while Sunghoon and Jay, who hadn't drank as much, looked as calm as the winds.
"You know what?" You started, not knowing the words coming out of your drunken mouth anymore, "Fuck Lee Heeseung, fuck that man." A sudden maniacal giggle from your mouth seemed to have amused Sunghoon.
"Fuck in what terms, Mrs Lee?" He asked, trying to hide his cunning smirk, whilst ignoring Jay's warning glares.
"Mrs Lee?" You questioned, feeling your senses come back, though you were still tipsy, "Who's Mrs Lee? Not me, no sir-ee." You laughed, "If I had the chance to chop off that asshole's dick right now, I would."
"But you wouldn't allow us to beat him up? Strange." Sunghoon whistled out in his usual cocky tone.
"It's getting late." Jay checked the grand clock in the corner of the room, his eyes wavered over the dried tears on your face, it was alarming to him how much a mere glass of bourbon had managed to get you giggling like a cuckoo, "Y/N I can drop you-"
"I'd rather fuck all of you in one night rather than see that idiot's face again." You chuckled again, this time, saying the sentence with full seriousness. Did you really mean it?, perhaps not, as you would have thought later on. But were you up for having sex with three extremely attractive men who happened to be the best friends of your ex-husband? That, was a definite yes.
"Oh really?" Sunghoon placed his forearms on the desk in front of him, leaning in closer to your face. Jay's hand clutched harder against the edge of the desk. "And what if I say yes to that proposal?"
"What are you implying, Detective Park?" You looked into his dark, devilish eyes, "That you'd have sex with someone pathetic enough to get cheated on?"
"Don't say that, you're not pathetic." Jay's eyes softened as he looked at you, but you merely scoffed, turning your face instead to look at Sunghoon, who was evidently smirking. You caught Jake's widened eyes from the corner of your eye, listening intently.
"How about this-" Sunghoon started, folding his arms, "You get a night of good sex, I get a night of good sex, you and I both get to rub that in Heeseung's face, and then we have breakfast in France."
"Are you married Detective Park?" You quizzed him with an amused face, his offer seemed at the very least, interesting to you.
"Not yet, no. I'm still young aren't I?", Sunghoon's mouth stretched like a cat's into a lazy smile, "Why do you ask? Are you....perhaps intrigued by my offer?"
There was something ironic about that sentence "I'm still young" that struck a chord within you, you were the same age as him and yet you were sitting there talking about your husband.
"Intrigued is one way to put it." You smiled back, hoping you looked anything like a vixen, matching the bastardous fox like energy of Sunghoon's, "But don't you think it's greedy of you, Detective Park? To want me all to yourself?"
"And what do you mean by that, Miss Y/N?" Jake smiled in his boyish manner, "Is Sunghoon here not enough for you?"
"I'm just saying." You held up your hands in mock defence, "wouldn't you both like to get a taste too?"
You glanced at Jay in the corner, who you had expected to be shaking his head in disapproval. But to your utter surprise, he had one of his gloves hands stroking his chin as if in deep thought. His eyes were dark even in the fluorescent light of the room, deep pools of cataclysmic waters floating around in his pupils. He looked vaguely interested.
"So just to recap," Jake started, clearing his throat, such that his Adam's apple was clearly visible, "You want us to bed you, so as to make your ex husband, our colleague and friend, someone's whose wife we definetly should not be sleeping with, jealous?"
"That's the blueprint." You said in a sweet honeyed voice, "How exactly you make him know that I'm not his anymore, you figure that out. If I even so as look at that man's face again, I will jump off a cliff."
"But the question is-" you put on a proud smile, eyes darting from one man to the next, "Who's going first?"
"Shouldn't you decide that sweetheart?" Jay's deep voice came like a rumble through the ground during an earthquake, slightly startling you. He hadn't said anything in the past few minutes, his sudden break of silence alarmed you.
"Alright then." You chuckled, not daring to meet Jay's eyes, you knew you'd melt as soon as you saw them, "How about the person who suggested this?" You turned your face towards a smirking Sunghoon, with his head held high like a peacock's, "Detective Park?"
"Shall I go with the lady's word boys?" Sunghoon asked Jake, who nodded his head, taking his glasses off the desk and outting them on again. The effect it had in him was quite handsome, according to you.
"Should we make a pact then?" Jake asked cheekily, glancing around for a piece of paper, finally picking one up from underneath the mountain of files lying on the wisened wood. Putting it down on the paper, he scribbled something down quickly, showing it off proudly to the others. You let out a laugh when you saw what he wrote.
"'The make Heeseung jealous organisation'?" You laughed, "I can't tell if you're serious or not."
"I'm dead serious." Jake looked at you with glossy eyes, he always was a funny one, you recalled, "Come on everyone, I need signatures."
He's serious about this, you thought, amused at Jake's comedic demeanor. You swiftly pressed the black ink to the paper, leaving off a flashy signature to decorate it. Jay signed off last, with an impeccable font.
Words couldn't have described that very evening. No sentence that could come out of your mouth could have ever even begun to explain to a complete stranger about how you had ended up in Sunghoon's car, driving to his house in silence. Shrugging off the moral doubts in the corner of your brain, you stared out the window into a dewy night.
Relax, you thought to yourself, there wasn't anything wrong with what you were doing.
Was there?
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jksarchives · 23 days
Text
NEVER SWAY
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PAIRING; jungkook x reader
GENRE; established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff
TAGS/WARNINGS; jk yells at oc but is actually sweet, husband/wife, fluff, brief angst, oneshot
WORD COUNT; 2.7k
𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯! 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘪𝘴𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘯𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦!
𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗧𝗟𝗬 𝗡𝗢 𝗣𝗟𝗔𝗚𝗜𝗔𝗥𝗜𝗦𝗠 𝗢𝗥 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗦𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡
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SYNOPSIS;
No matter the situation, Jungkook has never raised his voice at you, choosing patience and understanding instead. He loves you and cares about you too much to see you cry because of him. But his patience is put to a test when a situation arises.
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𐚁₊⊹
As the morning sun gently filtered through the curtains, you slowly stirred awake from your slumber. And the warmth you expected from your husband's presence beside you was oddly absent. Confusion clouded your sleepy eyes as you rubbed them and slowly sat up.
“Jungkook?” you called out softly, your voice carrying confusion.
There was no answer, just the faint tweeting of morning birds outside the window. It was Saturday, and he didn’t work during the weekend, so you were confused as to where he could possibly be.
Frowning, you threw off the blanket and stood up, slipping your feet into your fluffy pink slippers. Your first stop was Jungkook’s study room, the place he often disappeared into when he was drowned in work.
You pushed the slightly ajar door open, and to your relief and mild amusement, there he was, sprawled on the couch. He was fast asleep with papers scattered around him.
A gentle smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you approached him. You reached out and carefully removed his glasses and set them aside.
You couldn't help but feel your heart melt listening to the soft snores that escaped him, and his peaceful features as he slept like a contented baby.
Jungkook had been pouring his heart and soul, working day and night, into a demanding project assigned by his boss. And his dedication was something you deeply admired.
However, it also weighed heavily on your mind. You knew how important this project was for his career, but you were worried about the toll it was taking on him. You just wanted him to give himself a break.
“You work too hard my love” you whispered as you gently stroked his cheek.
You leaned down and planted a soft kiss on his forehead, causing him to stir slightly but not wake. You reached out your hand to run your fingers through his hair, feeling the warmth of his presence.
Not wanting to wake him up, you grabbed a nearby blanket and draped it over him, tucking it in with tender care. Then, you turned your attention to the scattered papers and documents that had taken over the study room.
With a sigh, you started by gathering the scattered papers and neatly organising them into stacks on the desk.
You then opened up the windows but kept the curtains closed to keep the sunlight from waking Jungkook up.
After throwing away the litter and sweeping up the floor, you sprayed the room with a floral scent to keep the room smelling nice and fresh.
Looking around the room and feeling satisfied, you turned your attention back to your sleeping husband. You walked over to him and squared down to his level, reaching your hand out to stroke his cheek. With a heart full of love and a gentle smile on your face, you leaned in and placed a soft peck on his lips.
“Sleep well, you really need it” you whispered.
You admired his sleeping form for a moment before standing up to your feet, and you carefully tiptoed out of the room. It was 11:30 AM. You knew it was too late for breakfast, so you decided to prepare lunch and clean up the house before Jungkook woke up.
┄┄┄┄┄
An hour or two later, Jungkook stirred awake, his eyes adjusting the light that was peeking through the curtains. As his gaze wandered around his now-neat study room, his eyes shot wide open. Panic washed over him as he glanced at the clock on the wall opposite him, realising how much time had passed.
He threw off the blanket and jumped up to his feet, knowing he had a lot of catching up to do. “Arghh” he groaned as he felt pain strike inside his head.
He stumbled as he held his head, feeling disoriented and unsteady as he blinked to regain focus. He sat himself back down and began massaging his temples, groaning and mumbling curses under his breath.
“Jungkook?” he heard a soft voice call out for him.
He raised his head and found you approaching him with worry, “you’re awake, are you okay?” you asked as you sat down next to him.
He smiled at you warmly despite the striking pain in his head, and pulled you to his chest. “I’m okay, just got a headache” he sighed as he rested his chin over your head.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked.
“You’ve been working so hard lately and you needed a proper rest. And besides, it’s the weekend” you answered as you pulled away to look at him.
“Weekend or not, I need to get this project finished at the best quality, you know I can’t waste time baby” he sighed.
“Giving yourself a break after continuously working hard is not wasting time babe. I’m just worried you’ll collapse one day if you keep overworking yourself like this, and I don’t want anything to happen to you” you said, grabbing his face.
“I promise you, it’s not going to be the end of the world if you step back a little and take a break. Your health is important, more than anything” your voice lowered to a soft whisper.
Jungkook's gaze softened as he felt his heart swell, his lips curved into a smile as he leaned his forehead against yours.
“You care about me so much huh?” his voice came out hoarse as he pecked your lips over and over again. You giggled at his affection, slightly pushing him off you.
“Come on, freshen up and join me for lunch. I made you your favourite” you winked at him as you got up.
“What did you make?” he asked, raising his brow.
“You’ll see” was all you said, giving him a smile before walking out.
┄┄┄┄┄
After brushing his teeth and taking a quick shower, Jungkook headed back to his study room remembering the important document he was working on last night — it was the core of his project.
Seeing the stack of papers on the table that you have neatly organised, he let out a sigh. Though he appreciated your effort keeping his study room tidy, he knew it was going to take a while to find the document he was looking for.
Finishing drying his wet hair, he threw the towel on the couch and walked over to the desk.
He skimmed through the stack of papers, but frowned when he couldn’t find the document. He skimmed through them again, but he couldn’t find it. His patience was slightly running low as frustration and panic began to build up inside him.
“Babe?” he called out for you.
“Yeah?” you walked into the room finding your shirtless husband in a slight panic mode.
“Have you seen a document that has a red stamp mark on the bottom corner anywhere? I had it with me last night” he turned to look at you.
“Red stamp…I’m not really sure, I just collected all the papers that were scattered and stacked them up on the desk. I’m sure it’s there somewhere” you frowned.
“But it’s not there, I checked twice” he groaned as he ran his fingers through his wet locks.
“Hey,” you said, taking a step towards him, “I’m sure it’s here somewhere. Let's have lunch first and we’ll find it together later, hmm?” you suggested.
But Jungkook, growing impatient and frustrated, shook his head.
“No, I need to find it now. It’s the only copy I have, and if it gets lost then it’s over for me” he said.
Feeling a little anxious yourself, you understood his concern and wanted to help him find the document. “Okay, I’ll look through this stack and you look through that one” you told him, and with a nod, you both began flipping through each sheet of paper.
┄┄┄┄┄
Minutes turned into what felt like hours as you both carefully looked through the organised piles of paper. Papers were shuffled, drawers were opened and closed, and every corner of the study was inspected. Yet, the document was nowhere to be found, as if it had vanished into thin air.
“Fuck!” Jungkook cursed as he slammed his fists on the desk, feeling panic and anger surging through his body. You flinched, sensing the brewing storm inside of him.
“Where did you keep it Y/n? You cleaned the room” he asked, turning to you.
You felt yourself grow small and anxious under his frustration, “I just gathered up all the papers I found lying around, so it should’ve been amongst those stacks” you answered.
“But if I remember correctly, I didn’t see any document with a red stamp” you then added.
Jungkook threw his head back and let out a groan, “then where did it go?” he asked.
“Are you sure you had it last night and not some different document?” you questioned, “yes I’m sure I had it with me” he quickly answered.
For a moment there was silence, the atmosphere clouded with a thick fog of tension. Jungkook paced around the room trying to keep his cool, but soon, his pent up emotions got the best of him.
He abruptly stopped and turned to you, “this is exactly why I tell you to leave my stuff as it is and that I’ll sort it all out myself” he groaned.
You remained quiet as you chewed on your bottom lip. “I’m sure you have a copy of it on your computer to print out again, right?” you asked.
“If I did then I wouldn’t be panicking right now Y/n” he snapped, taking you by surprise. “You shouldn’t have touched anything in the first place!” he raised his voice.
Your eyes widened slightly in shock, and your face paled as you realised the gravity of your attempt to help. Jungkook was never the one to yell at anybody — he was the sweetest and kindest person you knew. And you have never seen him this upset before, so you knew you had messed up really bad.
“I’m s-sorry, I…I must have put it somewhere else by mistake” you stammered.
“Then where the hell is it?! Why can’t I find it anywhere?!” he snapped again, his voice growing louder and angrier.
You jumped at his tone, feeling tears welling up in your eyes, and you took a step back as you got overwhelmed by his irritation.
“I...I thought I was helping. I didn't know. I'm so sorry Jungkook” your voice quivered as you spoke.
The moment he saw the hurt and tears in your eyes, Jungkook’s anger washed away as quickly as it had flared up. His face, once contorted with anger, quickly softened, his eyes filling with instant regret. He never raised his voice at you like this before, and the shock and hurt in your eyes cut him to the core.
With a heavy heart and hesitant steps, he reached out to you and pulled you into his arms. You, still shaken a little bit by his outburst, hugged him back, tears of relief streaming down your cheeks.
“I’m so sorry honey, I didn’t mean to yell” his voice now gentle and apologetic.
You relaxed in his embrace but couldn't hold back your tears. And before you knew it, you broke down into soft cries. Feeling his heart sink at the sound of your soft cries, Jungkook held you tighter, his own eyes filling with tears.
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry baby” he whispered, his voice cracking with sincerity.
With a gentleness that contrasted his earlier anger, he continued to apologise, his words filled with deep remorse. He pressed gentle kisses to your forehead and your cheeks, trying to comfort you.
“It’s okay” you told him.
“No it’s not” he almost cut you off.
“You were only helping, and I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that” he said, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck.
“I’m so sorry” he continued to apologise.
Your cries soon began to subside, replaced by soft sniffles as you hugged him tighter. You then pulled away and looked up at him “but what about your document?” you asked.
Jungkook let out a deep sigh as he reached his hands up to your face and caressed your cheeks with his warm fingers.
“It’s okay, you don’t worry about it too much. I’m sure it’s somewhere, I just need to look harder” he reassured you.
In that moment, Jungkook realised that nothing was worth hurting the woman he loved, not even the document that his life depended on. If anything, seeing you cry was the last thing he wanted — especially when he’s the reason.
“Shall we go and have lunch now?” he suggested with a small smile on his face, trying to lift the mood. You hummed in response and smiled back at him, and with that, Jungkook pulled away and held your hand before leading you out of the room.
“What did you make?” he asked as you both walked down the stairs with your fingers intertwined. “I made kimchi stew, but your way. Some fried pork dumplings too, and rice” you answered, turning your head to give him a smile.
“Mhmm, I’m starving” he groaned playfully, causing you to giggle.
A few moments later, you finished plating the food. As you set the food on the table, Jungkook’s eyes lit up with excitement. He eagerly dug into the kimchi stew, savoring the flavours that danced on his taste buds.
“This is delicious babe” he complimented as he gazed at you with his sparkling gaze. You watched your husband with a contented smile, and reached your hand out to stroke his cheek.
“That’s why I made extra, it’s all yours” you told him.
Jungkook’s gaze softened as his chewing slowed, “I love you” he said.
“I love you the most” you replied, and reached your hand out to wipe away the stew broth that was dripping from the corner of his mouth.
┄┄┄┄┄
THE NEXT DAY
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
After a long and exhausting day at work, Jungkook trudged inside the house, his shoulders slumped and his feet heavy with fatigue. Yet, despite his tiredness, he was eager to see you.
With a sigh of relief, he kicked off his shoes and shrugged off his coat, making his way through the halls of your home.
“Babe?” he called out, but no answer.
“Babe, are you home?” he called out once again, “yeah I’m here!” he heard a distant voice coming from the laundry room.
Soon he found you, sorting the dirty clothes and loading them into the washing machine. A gentle smile crossed his face as he watched you.
“Hey” he greeted you, and you turned around, your face lighting up with a warm smile. He walked up to you and pulled you into a tender kiss, and you instantly melted in.
Pulling away, you stared into each other’s eyes.
“How was your day?” you asked, “exhausting, but guess what?” he returned the question. You frowned and tilted your head slightly in confusion.
“I found the document I was looking for yesterday” he said, and your eyes lit up in relief.
“It was in my cabin at work all along, not at home. In fact, I was working on a completely different paperwork yesterday. I guess I just got things mixed up” he mumbled in shame as he scratched the back of his neck.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn’t have blamed you like that” he sighed, unable to look you in the eyes.
Your eyes softened with understanding, and you placed your gentle hand on his cheek and lifted his face. “It's alright honey” you replied with a voice reassuring, “we all have our moments, but I'm glad you found it” you smiled.
In that moment, Jungkook finally felt the weight of guilt lift from his shoulders. Your understanding and forgiveness was all he needed to keep your little misunderstanding in the past and not let it change the future.
“I promise I won’t yell at you again” he promised, caressing your cheeks.
“And if you do?” you asked, playfully lifting your brow, “then I sleep on the floor for a whole month” he confidently answered.
But you caught him swallowing a lump, causing you to let out a chuckle.
“Actually, I have a better punishment” you spoke up, and Jungkook lifted his brow in curiosity.
“What is it?” he asked, and you slowly leaned into his ear.
“No sex for a month”
Jungkook’s eyes widened in horror, “now way!” he cut in. You giggled and pushed past him, walking away.
“Baby you can’t do that” he argued as he turned around to follow you behind.
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𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗥𝗜𝗚𝗛𝗧𝗦 𝗥𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗥𝗩𝗘𝗗
@𝗷𝗸𝘀𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵𝗶𝘃𝗲𝘀 𝟮𝟬𝟮𝟰
©️
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spiritualseer · 2 months
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Love as Venus Signs
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Copyright Disclaimer ©️ All works are owned by me and I do not allow reposting or translations- only reblogging
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Aries Venus: Love is an adventure, and I dive into it fearlessly, guided by the fire within my heart.
Taurus Venus: Love is a sanctuary of comfort and stability, where I cherish every touch and savour the sweetness of affection, guided by the senses that speak to my soul.
Gemini Venus: Love is an ever-changing conversation, where minds meet and ideas dance, sparked by curiosity and the thrill of intellectual connection.
Cancer Venus: Love is a nurturing embrace, where emotions flow like tides, and I cherish the bonds of family and intimacy, guided by the soft glow of the heart's hearth.
Leo Venus: Love is a grand stage where passion shines bright, and I bask in the spotlight of affection, guided by the drama and romance that ignite my heart.
Virgo Venus: Love is found in the details, where every gesture and word is meticulously cared for, guided by a desire for perfection and a practical approach to intimacy.
Libra Venus: Love is a dance of balance and beauty, where hearts intertwine in perfect harmony, guided by the scales of passion and compassion.
Scorpio Venus: Love is a powerful alchemy, igniting flames of desire and unravelling the depths of the soul, revealing the raw beauty hidden within.
Sagittarius Venus: Love is an adventure across the horizon, where freedom and exploration intertwine, guided by optimism and a quest for new experiences.
Capricorn Venus: Love is the foundation on which I build my dreams, brick by brick, with patience, commitment, and unwavering dedication.
Aquarius Venus: Love is a boundless universe of possibilities, where we celebrate each other's individuality and soar together, free in our authentic selves.
Pisces Venus: Love flows like a gentle river, embracing all with its tender waves, and I dive into its depths, guided by the currents of my heart.
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I got almost 50 followers so here's a little treat :)
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lizzyiii · 1 month
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just read “his lady love” and i’m completely obsessed with your writing, i definitely need a part 2 for that please 😭😭😭
His Lady Love (2)
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pairing | aemond targaryen x vampire!mikaelson!reader
word count | 3.8k words
summary | you return to westeros, to find that the young prince has become a man and his burning infatuation with you has not died out and you reconnect with helaena
tags | no warnings? usual mention of targaryen incest (but let's be real, everyone who reads hotd fanfic has now normalised targcest), and child marriage (my poor bby Helaena), filler
note | oh my god, y'all 😭. idk what I was thinking with that dramatic ass mikaelson reveal. as we all know the reader is never described, but as we all also know the mikaelsons are white af. so I'm making it clear that the reader is NOT mikael's daughter, leaving the reader's description and race unknown, esther was busy getting her freak on and her real father will never be disclosed. because in my mind the reader or y/n is and will always be a curly-haired, brown-skinned baddie....so each to their own. AND I'm pretty sure this is going to be a series cause for the life of me I am unable to make a oneshot without further exploring a story.
likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated ✨
𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 — 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 — 𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫
Five long years had stretched into nearly two thousand sunrises since Aemond Targaryen last laid eyes upon you. Each passing day weighed heavily on his soul, a slow burn of a thousand bitter memories. Some days, the tempest of his emotions roiled within him, bidding him to hate you—for your departure, for the way you had vanished from court like a wisp of smoke, leaving only echoes and shadows in your wake.
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But the flames of that hate flickered and faded, giving rise to a deeper yearning, a gaping void where love had once flourished. Even now, after all this time, your spirit held his heart captive, stolen under the very nose of fate when you chose to forsake the realm.
In the wake of your absence, thirteen year old Aemond had become a specter haunting the hallowed halls of the library, pouring over tomes and scrolls in a frantic quest for knowledge of House Mikaelson—a house that seemed to dissolve into the mists of myth with each turn of the page. The histories were silent, and when he turned to his elders, the lords and ladies of the court, their ignorance stung deeper than any sword. Your name was but a whisper lost amongst the louder clamor of dragons and destinies.
Desperation guided his steps toward the Queen’s solar, where his mother resided. He pressed forth, demanding answers of her, yet it was peculiar; though he sought her wisdom and guidance, she seemed to have forgotten the very reason of why she had made you one of her ladies-in-waiting. Her brows knitted with confusion as he spoke your name, her big brown eyes clouded with a nostalgia she could not place.
Yet Aemond could see it in the gentle curve of her lips, in the way her gaze drifted past him, as if searching for a phantom. She missed you, that was clear. Her heart held a chamber of memories crafted from your offered comfort amidst the whispers of court intrigue, from the grace of your presence that had brightened the darker days.
The weight of five relentless years bore heavily upon Aemond Targaryen. Through trials of fire and blood, he had forged himself anew, emerging both mentally and physically formidable. He was now the most skilled swordsman within the keep’s sturdy walls, a warrior of such caliber that even the esteemed Ser Criston Cole would struggle to match his prowess. Secluded in the dim light of solitary training grounds, he immersed himself in the ancient tomes of philosophy and the illustrious history of House Targaryen, dedicated to honing his mind as keenly as his sword.
Yet in this relentless pursuit of strength and mastery, the warmth of his heart had withered, leaving behind only the chill of calculated ambition. His facade, meticulously crafted, rendered him cold and unyielding — a visage so fierce that even the bravest souls flinched at the thought of meeting his gaze directly.
Thus, it was with a jarring dissonance that Aemond entered his sister, Helaena's solar that day. It was a ritual he had come to cherish against the backdrop of his darkening spirit, visiting her and the twins for a fleeting moment of respite. However, as he stepped across the threshold, the air thickened and his breath caught in his throat.
Helaena sat with delicate artistry upon a chaise, embroidering threads of vibrant colors while keeping a watchful eye on her children. But it was not the familiar sight of his sister that seized him. No, there, in the heart of the chamber, stood his mother, Queen Alicent, holding the hands of a woman whose features were obscured from his view. However, even with your back turned, he recognized you and your unmistakable figure.
Alicent’s large, expressive eyes caught his, shimmering with an emotion he had not anticipated. “Aemond,” she uttered softly, the sound piercing through the tension-laden silence.
With the calling of his name, you turned, and the breath in his lungs faltered. The years stretched out like an endless tapestry between the two of you, but as he beheld you standing there after all this time, it felt as if no time had passed at all.
Five long years had passed, and in that span, Aemond had transformed. His once-boyish frame had hardened, each line of muscle now finely chiseled, his stature soaring to a height that eclipsed yours. He had shed the skin of youth and emerged a man forged by the fires of ambition and vengeance, yet he could feel a familiar tug at his heart as he stared at you.
But you… you had remained untouched by time’s relentless march. Your face, flawless and luminous, bore no marks of age; not a wrinkle nor blemish dared mar your smooth skin. Your form he remembered was preserved in perfection, your hair framing your figure in the same glorious waves that had enchanted him years ago.
You were the embodiment of memories he cherished, the same as ever.
For a fleeting heartbeat, Aemond dared to believe you were but a haunting mirage conjured by his yearning heart. If not for the watchful eyes of his mother and sister resting upon you, he would have thought himself lost to despair, ensnared by the fantasies of his own making.
An eternity seemed to stretch in the daunting silence that enveloped the two of you, the world around forgotten as each of you engaged in a quiet, yet profound examination. Your eyes sparkled like the night sky in the light of the day, and when you smiled—the same saccharine smile that had once filled his heart with joy during the innocence of his childhood—it left him breathless. “My prince,” you spoke softly, your voice dancing in the air, “how you’ve grown.”
In that moment, something within him shifted—a profound balm against the bitterness he had nurtured like a dark plant within his chest. All the resentment, the stinging remembrance of your abandonment, and the shadows of sadness that once clouded his thoughts dissipated at the mere sight of your smile. His throat was dry as a winter's night, thoughts scattered like ash on the wind, and yet, the corners of his mouth began to lift involuntarily, mirroring the warmth radiating from you.
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Mikaelson.
A name that struck terror into the hearts of countless souls. Yet, here, in this strange realm of Westeros, where dragons soared and the icy dread of White Walkers loomed behind the walls, such fear was but a whisper lost to the winds. No, this land, though foreign and fierce, offered you sanctuary—not the kind woven from solace and warmth, but the kind fortified by distance and the absence of your cursed siblings.
Here, there were no vampires lurking in the cloaks of night, nor were there werewolves howling beneath the pale moonlight. Instead, there were dragons, fierce and resplendent, and direwolves, proud and wild. Most crucially, there was no Mikael—a freedom that tasted of hope amidst you heart's turmoil.
True, you thought often on whether you should have brought your siblings along, for Mikael would never find this place. Yet, a heavy foreboding gripped you; you understood all too well that the Mikaelsons (Niklaus) very presence would shatter the fragile peace you sought. Westeros was far from a land of plenty, riddled with poverty and further burdened by the cruel fate of women, yet in its chaos lay distance.
So, you fled, slipping away into the shrouded embrace of night, abandoning the only family you had known—or, more accurately, what was left of it. It was the sixteenth century, a time when hope flickered dimly in the eyes of men and women alike. You had not laid eyes upon Finn since Niklaus, in his relentless wrath, had condemned him to a tormented existence, and staked a dagger in his heart. Kol fared no better; his defiance had earned him Niklaus' ire, leaving him to face the very same fate that had befallen their eldest brother.
Months had slipped by as you braved the tempestuous seas, each wave an echo of your desperation, each gust of wind whispering promises of a new beginning. You had set sail toward the edge of the earth, guided by an insatiable yearning for freedom—until at last, you had discovered Westeros.
You had arrived in Westeros with an unyielding ambition, your ethereal beauty concealing a fierce determination that allowed you to easily compel your way into the court of Queen Alicent Hightower as one of her ladies-in-waiting. The smell of dragonfire and the whispers of civil war clung to the air, a distinct reminder of the foreign heritage of the Targaryens.
The first time you had seen one of the great beasts aloft, its shadow sweeping across the land, leaving you breathless and in awe. Dragons were an embodiment of the Targaryen power, but alongside that power lurked a shocking underbelly of normalized incestuous unions and the festering decay of traditional familial bonds. For a girl raised among the Mikaelsons, who had danced among the vices of immortality, this was both familiar and grotesque.
Your new world was laced with intrigue—rumors skittered through the halls like restless spirits. The whispers spoke of Princess Rhaenyra and the seed of doubt surrounding her claim to the Iron Throne, the barbs of scandal raised even higher by her many alleged bastards. These complexities intrigued you, compelling you to observe from the outside, where the machinations of power were far more amusing than any political play you had encountered in your old life.
Queen Alicent, though esteemed and regal, bore the weight of her flaws almost indiscernibly, like a cloak of gold marred by rust. From what you could tell, the Queen wielded herself like a pawn—her father being Otto Hightower, an unseen puppeteer, tugging at the strings of her choices. Maternal instinct flickered in Alicent like the candle flames that lit the chamber at night; she faltered and stumbled but made an earnest effort to nurture her children as best she could, though in your opinion she had failed miserably with Aegon. And yet, her fund of effort, a raw and poignant endeavor, resonated with you. The Queen was imperfect, yet within that human frailty lay a semblance of motherhood that Esther Mikaelson had failed to give you.
Thus, in your role as one of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting, you discovered a sanctuary of sorts. The court became a twisted labyrinth of alliances and betrayals, yet amidst the swirling intrigue, you found comfort in Alicent’s earnest attempts at kindness towards you.
In the two years you had spent in Westeros, you had found solace in the delicate friendship you created with Princess Helaena—a rare gem among the Targaryens, whose sweet and gentle spirit seemed devoid of the cunning that defined her kin. Helaena's quiet understanding struck a chord deep within you, reminiscent of a time before death had twisted your mind. Once, you too had lived in a world that felt like a dream, until Niklaus tore down the veil of your innocence with his ruthless reality check. He had carved fear into your heart, reminding you of the darkness that lurked within the world.
But as you observed Helaena, an overwhelming sorrow enveloped you. The Queen's decree to betroth the princess to Prince Aegon sank like a stone in her gut. Aegon—a broken soul, defined by indulgence and ambition—was a force of chaos that echoed the wickedness of their own familial bond. In many ways, he reminded you of Kol, with his infectious charm and volatile spirit, yet where Kol harbored a flicker of love beneath layers of darkness, Aegon radiated a depravity that sent shivers down your spine.
Your heart ached at the thought of Helaena being shackled to a boy so unworthy of her light. The specter of Aegon’s reckless nature loomed large, and you feared for the princess's fate. You could see it clearly: with every passing day of their union, Helaena’s spirit would wither under the weight of neglect and cruelty, her gentle soul extinguished in the fires of a loveless bond.
And then there was Prince Aemond, the second youngest son of Alicent's brood—a striking boy marked by a fierce determination to embrace his responsibilities as a prince. You often felt a pang of sympathy when you witnessed the relentless taunts from Aegon and the scornful jeers of his nephews, sorrow swelling in your chest at the knowledge that he was the only Targaryen without a dragon to call his own. And it was hard to ignore the tender glances he cast your way, his violet eyes lingering on you whenever you graced a room.
However, nothing could have prepared you for the sight of Aemond standing at your door during the elusive hour of the wolf, his ethereal silver hair, tousled and framing a face streaked with tears, the light of hope dimmed in his now singular violet eye. Fury ignited in your core when he confided the harrowing tale of how Aegon had dragged him to the Street of Silk, that dark sanctuary of vice—your heart shattered for the innocence that had been ripped from him, for the heavy shame that now clung to him, marked by his brother who should have looked out and protected him. By now, Aegon was six-and-ten, he should have gleaned wisdom from his years, yet he chose the path of cruelty instead.
In an effort to soothe the wounded prince, you opened your heart and your arms to him. You conceded to his requests, bathing him with tender care, allowing him the sanctuary of your presence as he lay beside you. Your intentions were pure, untainted by anything but the desire to comfort a boy you had come to deeply care for.
And yet, with a heavy heart, you turned your back on Westeros, your mind haunted by the echoes of family. In that fleeting moment of vulnerability, you found yourself yearning for the bonds that had once defined you. The Targaryens, ensnared in their web of resentment and betrayal, made it clear that true loyalty and love were rare treasures. Their familial discord stood in stark contrast to the fierce devotion of your own bloodline. For all the chaos wrought by the Mikaelsons, love remained their unyielding anchor.
Niklaus, with his volatile nature, was both feared and revered by you; yet, beneath that fierce exterior lay a soul tormented by the shadows of his past, perpetually haunted by the specter of abandonment. Finn and Kol, locked in eternal slumber by Niklaus’s cruel whim, lay undisputed in their coffins, yet your brother stood sentinel over them, unwavering and steadfast. The thought of returning to him was chilling; the mere sight of you would surely earn a dagger in your own heart.
You resolved to escape, to steal away before Queen Alicent could impose a husband upon you like a gilded cage. It was meant to be a brief respite, a momentary retreat from your burdens. You had once believed that seamlessly integrating into the intricate tapestry of Westerosi society would be a simple endeavor. Yet, the relentless weight of expectations proved stifling. Each encounter demanded a dance of delicate grace, a façade meticulously curated to meet the desires of those around you, and in turn, it drained your very spirit.
Thus, you sought solace in the sun-drenched lands of Essos, a realm that defied the rigid conventions you had grown weary of. Essos was a land of vibrant colors and broken norms, where the sun shone unabated and the very air seemed to sing of possibility. Gone were the burdens of being gracious and demure, replacing those restraints with the intoxicating freedom to explore the wild tapestry of cultures sprawled before you. In a realm filled with mercenaries and traders, where the scent of spice mingled with the salty sea air, you couldn’t help but feel invigorated.
Shame washed over you like a cold wave, a sharp pang of regret settling in your chest as you sat in Princess Helaena's solar, surrounded by the laughter of her twins, Jahaerys and Jahaera. The children, mere five summers old, served as a vivid reminder of your absence; Helaena had brought them into the world at the tender age of fourteen, while you had been lost in the allure of Essos. Your own selfish pursuits had drawn you away from Westeros, leaving your dear friend to navigate the tides of motherhood without your companionship.
But now, fate had drawn you back to Westeros, though the reason for your return eluded you—perhaps it was mere curiosity, or a desire to witness the Targaryens as they embarked on a path toward their own ruin. Perhaps it was simply the lingering comfort of a maternal embrace that Queen Alicent had once offered you. One thing remained certain: you were back, unchanged yet bound by the curse that clung to the Mikaelsons. You still appeared as you had, forever encased at the tender age of six and ten, the same age at which you had died nearly six centuries ago.
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The twins were a study in contrast. Jaehaerys, the young prince, was somber and introspective, casting shy glances your way from beneath the curtain of his silver hair. In contrast, Jaehaera exuded a lively spirit, her laughter as bright as the morning sun. She was a sweet girl, eager for your attention, her small hands clutching her beloved dolls as she beckoned you to join her in playful realms of castles and grand adventures. Every so often, Jaehaerys would join in, indulging his sister’s imagination by taking on the role of a fierce dragon, albeit with a reluctance that made his quiet demeanor all the more endearing.
“I have missed you,” Helaena said softly from her place on the chaise, delicate fingers working through the intricate patterns of her embroidery, her gaze never leaving the fabric.
You met her gaze, a frown momentarily shadowing your features, your heart tightening at the sight of her. A small, bittersweet smile tugged at your lips as you replied, "As I have missed you, princess. I offer my sincerest apologies for my prolonged absence."
“But you have returned, and that is what matters,” she replied with a tranquil certainty, her expression unwavering.
With a nod, you maintained your tight-lipped smile, the corners of your mouth struggling to lift fully. “Indeed, I have, and I hope to stay here for as long as fate allows.”
As you resumed your playful moments with the twins — Helaena’s voice broke through the lighthearted chaos as she called your name. “Pray tell, how old were you when you came to court?”
Your lips pursed gently as you recounted, your tone tense but soft, “I was but six and ten years, my dear princess.”
An oblivious smile spread across Helaena's face, illuminating her features. “And yet you appear unchanged, as if untouched by time’s passage. Like a Lepidoptera,” she remarked, her imagination weaving images as vivid as the embroidered fabrics around her.
Your brows knitted in puzzlement. "A what, my princess?"
"A Lepidoptera," she patiently repeated, her eyes shimmering with youthful curiosity. "It is a classification that encompasses butterflies, which remain breathtakingly lovely until the end of their days."
A bittersweet pang echoed within you at her words, for you were destined for a far different fate, cursed to wander the shadows as a creature of the night. Yet, you offered a slight nod, managing a soft, "Thank you, my princess," as you absorbed the weight of her innocent compliment.
“And yet, I cannot claim to have missed you as intensely as Aemond has,” Helaena mused, her gaze distant as you idly threaded your fingers through Jaehaera's shimmering locks of silver.
“I’m afraid I don’t quite grasp what you mean,” you replied softly, masking your understanding with a facade of innocence.
“I believe you are quite aware,” Helaena said softly, a melodic note in her voice, her smile lingering with a teasing warmth, “Aemond has loved you since he was a mere boy.”
You cast her a sidelong glance before adopting an air of nonchalance. “Love is a weighty term for one so young, Princess. Surely, it was nothing more than a fleeting fancy.”
Helaena shook her head, her needlework a steady rhythm in her hands. “No, I do not believe so.”
Deep down, you didn't believe so either. Ever since your return to the depressive halls of King's Landing, a sensation had accompanied your every step—a watchful gaze lingering upon you. Aemond had worked to keep it hidden, but your heightened senses revealed the quiet intensity of his interest, as vivid as the summer sun.
There had been numerous revelations awaiting you upon your return to the Red Keep—the prideful births of young Jaehaerys and Jaehaera, the scandal of Rhaenyra and her uncle Daemon's elopement, and the grim decline of King Viserys's health, shadows stained upon the Iron Throne. Yet, the most haunting transformation was that of Prince Aemond.
Aegon had blossomed into the drunken sleaze you had always anticipated, a replica of the whims that dictated his every choice, but Aemond—oh, how he was the exact opposite of what you had envisioned. The youthful boy, once soft and unassuming, had unfurled into a striking figure, sharpened like the blade of a Targaryen sword, each line of his form etched with the harshness of time and expectation. His stature now towered over you, his presence immense, a tempest contained within the boundaries of a man’s body.
He seemed to carry within him a quiet fury, a storm beneath the surface, and it stirred something deep within you, a memory of that boy who had once been desperate for approval and had hope for a dragon. His boyish softness had been replaced by the resolute presence of a true dragon, a stark reminder of the power and peril that resided within his bloodline.
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taylorswiftstyle · 8 months
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TAYLOR SWIFT STYLE: FASHION THROUGH THE ERAS
Available for pre-order now. Out October 8, 2024.
The story of Taylor’s style evolution from almost two decades of looks.
The designers. The details. And the intention behind it all. Featuring 200+ photos spanning 10 albums (+ Eras Tour). Accompanied by Critically Kind commentary (natch).
When it came to choosing a single image as homage to Taylor’s style, I selfishly had greener ideas in mind. Never fear - the spine is 💚.
One look made the most sense. A look iconic and quintessentially “Taylor”: Unabashedly girly, that had a cat eye sharp enough to kill a man, and a red lip classic thing that we all like. But also one that meant something more. A look that Taylor took and elevated to take on new meaning - intertwining the two methods of communication she has used in equal measure her entire career: Her music and her fashion.
A watershed moment capturing a rising country star poised on the precipice of her next great venture months before unleashing an album that would lift her out of the modern day trappings of ‘pop star’ and into someone of true, undeniable, legendary status. While looking every bit the timeless icon she would become. It was also a moment that split apart the atomic identity of Taylor Swift the artist before her reputation was leveled and rebuilt into something even grander that we see flourishing today.
I hope this caption gives a glimpse into the heart, the soul, and the care that went into this book. I’m sure you know, but I’ll earnestly say it now: Pre-orders mean everything. They make a difference. I’ve put a link in bio here options to pre-order from your preferred seller.
Taylor once dreamed of writing an album dedicated to a real love that shines golden like starlight. As a love letter to her catalogue and career that’s changed and formed my life in every way - the front and page edges of this first run of TSS: FASHION THROUGH THE ERAS ⭕ will be gilded in special, first edition gold foil.
Thank you to St. Martin's Press for believing in the style behind the story and that this story in particular was worth telling.
- Sarah
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astraystayyh · 2 months
Text
sounds of hyunjin.
in which hyunjin comes home to you after a long day. very fluffy and soft (everyone pls act surprised) and how i missed writing for hyune;;; (blue silk shirt hyunjin makes a fleeting appearance i couldnt help myself)
this is dedicated to @hyunverse because she matches my hyunjin freak! and GO WISH HER A HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!! i love you angel :p
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It’s a few minutes past midnight when Hyunjin finally returns home to you. For the past two hours, you’ve been in bed, your head buried in your book of the month. But as you hear the distinctive jingle of Hyunjin’s keys, the words on the pages blur and fade. Your heart forgets the names of the characters you’ve been reading about, leaving only two syllables lingering at the edge of your thoughts—Hyunjin.
“Angel,” he whispers as soon as his eyes land on you, his voice barely audible. There’s a palpable relief in his tone, one you recognize instantly. Perhaps you have memorized the different shades of his voice more intimately than your own.
“My love,” you reply, and you know he catches the possessiveness in this specific nickname. Outside, he’s everyone’s to admire and adore, but here, in the sanctuary of your bedroom, he’s only yours—to gaze upon, to hold and to love.
He doesn’t leave you time to fully admire his silky blue shirt and how it contrasts perfectly against his honey-dipped skin. Instead, he’s quick to lay beside you, his head nestled in the crook of your neck, his ponytail tickling your bare skin. He smells of roses and faint, familiar hints of your shampoo.
“I missed you,” he mumbles, his breath rippling across your skin like stones skipping on a river. You tighten your hold on his body, closer, not close enough. Never close enough.
“I missed you more,” you say, and a sigh long caged in your heart finally escapes at his proximity. Hyunjin’s absence always feels like a heavyweight atop your soul, bricks upon bricks that he can dispel with just one sight of his star-laden eyes.
“How was your day?” he asks, his chin settling on your chest. You smile softly, gently unraveling his ponytail as you reply, “It was nice. I finally had time to read my book. What about you?”
“It was good,” he grins, his smile widening as he adds, “It’s better now that I’m here with you.” His familiar crescent eyes unfurl like full blooms— it’s been three years and yet the sight of his smile still makes you blush like a crimson sunset. 
You remain quiet, your fingers gently massaging his scalp, trailing up and down the nape of his neck. He relaxes fully in your hold, eyes closed, cheek pressed against your stomach. A lump forms in your throat at how safe he seems in your embrace, how he so willingly hands you the reins of his being.
“Baby,” you giggle faintly, “you need to get changed or you’ll end up falling asleep.”
“I don’t want to,” he shakes his head, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I feel good here.”
“You’ll feel better after a shower.”
“Only if you’re showering with me,” he grins mischievously, and you giggle, playfully bopping his nose.
“I already showered. Just go, I’ll wait for you.”
Hyunjin nods, lifting himself from above you, yet his hands linger on either side of your body, hovering like a gentle shield. “I missed you,” he whispers before his lips press softly against yours. They don’t move right away; they simply rest there, savoring the taste of one another and the sweetness that his presence infuses every instant.
Your hand finds his jaw, drawing him closer. “Missed you,” you murmur against his lips, and he smiles, pulling away slightly, his nose grazing gently against yours.
A quiet fifteen minutes unfold as you remain curled in bed, eyes closed, absorbing the sounds of Hyunjin— the water running quietly in the shower, his gentle whistling weaving through the melodies in his mind, his quiet yelp as what you assume is your shampoo falling on his feet. You trace his movements through the dim light as he emerges from the shower, a towel draped around his waist, droplets of water cascading down his v-line in a dance you’ve long memorized.
There is something profoundly intimate that curls and tightens within your heart as you simply watch him follow his nightly routine— as he applies lotion to his face, followed by his (your) favorite essence, as his fingers glide gently through his hair before he layers his black strands with his serum.
You’ve missed the serenity of witnessing Hyunjin in these moments, in his most unguarded, ordinary form, donning checkered beige pajamas that match with your own.
As soon as he’s done, he’s quick to climb into the bed, immediately bringing your body to his. There are many words lodged within your throat as you feel his heartbeat resonate within your soul— how existing with him is the joy of your life, how your house only comes alive when he’s in it.
He seems to sense your unspoken confessions as he leans back, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I feel as though a piece of my soul was written in the lines of your being,” he whispers, and your breath falters in your throat. “When I’m away, I can always feel something missing, my heart pulsating with a void.” 
His thumb glides softly over your cheekbones before his warm palm cradles your face. “But when you are near, every thought in my mind quiets down. It’s like my heart recognizes you, knows you, has learned you.” 
His voice is tender, flowing like honey into your ears, wrapping you in the soothing warmth of green tea late into the night. You find peace in your love for Hyunjin, you feel safe inscribing your heart with his name. 
“I love you,” you murmur, before pressing your lips to his once more. Your mouth parts only to meet again, too eager to reunite like long-lost lovers, to taste his love for you once more. 
It’s only a few minutes past five a.m. when you both finally fall asleep.
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finelinevogue · 11 months
Text
spreading the love
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summary - harry’s fans LOVE you
pairing - fiancé!harry x reader
word count - ~2k
The fans absolutely loved you.
Probably more so than Harry sometimes.
You were often the subject headline of news articles that were actually about Harry. You were often asked about in interviews that Harry was doing. You were often stopped before Harry on the streets. Not that Harry minded in the slightest because, well, he understood.
Obviously, no one could love you more than he did but he understood the publics addiction towards you.
You hadn’t come from much and you weren’t a name people knew before you started dating Harry. Somehow, somewhere, along the way you had become a somebody.
And everyone adored you.
Whether it was your kind nature, you loving heart, your gorgeous smile or your generous soul, you never went unloved by anyone. Not even the cruelest hearted person could have anything bad to say about you.
You loved being involved with the fans too. You often gave a lot back to them just because they were the most dedicated and loyal people you knew.
You loved how much they loved your Harry.
“Hello, hello!” You tucked your hair behind your ear as you started your Instagram live.
Your viewers shot up from 3k to 104k in ten seconds - that’s how popular you had become with the fans and media.
“How are we all today? Feeling good? I’m feeling good since it’s a Friday. It’s my weekend off tomorrow.”
Everyone knew that you were an NHS nurse and did so much for the people you worked with and beside, which only added to the cause of people loving you.
ellaking107: what are you doing with your weekend off?💛
“Hi Ella! This weekend I am staying home with Harry. We have got a very boring weekend planned unfortunately. Our bathroom is having a redecoration and so we need to wait for the tile man to pop in at some point so he can start measuring up bits and pieces. I’m sure H will drag me for a run or to a pilates class too.”
You were situated in your lounge, lots of plants and good lighting surrounding you.
harryissmiling101: Where is Harry?
“Ummm, so Harry is currently at his mum’s. Maybe this is too much information, but his mum’s fridge broke and so all her food went off. Harry and I made loads of dishes though last night for her, so Harry’s dropped them all off along with a spare fridge we had. I know… Don’t ask why we had a spare fridge.”
You watched as you cat, Kira, came through the lounge door and hopped up onto the sofa you were sat on. You turned the camera so everyone could see her.
“My child says hello to you all. Don’t you Ki?” You began stroking her little black and white chin. “Oh you’re so gorgeous. I love you so much.”
haileyjudd: Harry or Kira?
“Hailey I can’t believe you’re even asking me that… Hailey said, choose between Harry and Kira. Honey, there’s no doubt about it. Obviously, Kira.” You laughed.
You knew some magazine would twist your words later and make it seem like you and Harry were going through a rocky patch in your relationship, but you knew the truth. Harry was completely whipped for you and there wasn’t a single chance he was leaving you. Ever. Then again, the feeling is very mutual.
Kira came closer to you and sat in your lap, nestling herself deep into the blanket you had draped over the top of you.
jammiiie: Are you single please?
“Hi Jamie, potentially.. maybe… Uh, no. I am not single and this will remain my answer indefinitely.” You smiled, thinking about how clingy Harry would get if you had read that out whilst he was say next to you.
Harry doesn’t get jealous, oh no.
He gets clingy. And you love it.
You love when he’s constantly doting on you; kissing you. He loved on you like he has to remind you your his (even though you always will be).
harriesassemble: Y/N can I ask you a question? My boyfriend told me that I have to shave (you know where) but I don’t feel comfortable doing that. How do I tell him? (Don’t answer if you feel uncomfortable)🤍
“Wait.. Hang on a second..” You spoke slowly, slowing the speed of the comments as you traced back to a comment that caught your attention.
“Hi, sorry I’m not sure what your name is, but I hope you are still here and know I’m speaking to you!“ You re-read out loud the comment posted so everyone knew what you were going to talk about. “So, first of all, girl to girl, if he is forcing you to do something as personal as shaving yourself then, my love, he’s not worth your time or breath.”
ophelialover: oh i am so here for y/n’s girl talk time
harrielover: y/n is so big sister coded
“Don’t do anything that you don’t want to do. Do not force yourself to be making changes to yourself just to please a man, or any significant other for that matter. If Harry ever forced me to make a change to myself I didn’t want, he knows where the door is. Seriously, honey, you’re perfect and never change unless you want to.”
harriesassemble: Thank you!🩷
kingsofharry: You’re amazinf Y/N <33
justkeepdriving: WE LOVE YOU Y/N
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liked by y/nl/nofficial and 1,976 others
harriesassemble i can’t believe y/n just followed me i am in shock right now :((( she’s my favourite person in the whole world and everything they said to me this evening was just so special:(( im shaking so bad i love y/n so much❤️
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harryfan1 OH THIS IS SO COOL
harryfan2 omg you were who y/n was talking to??? congrats!!!!!
y/nl/nofficial You’re amazing!💛
harryfan3 we stan y/n
••••••••••
London was quite busy today.
Lots of tourists bustling through the city as well as the daily commuters wandering around on their lunch breaks.
Harry had decided to take the afternoon off since you also had it off, organising to take you for a bite to eat and a coffee at your favourite cafe.
It was a cafe bookstore, so you got to browse books whilst waiting for your food and then got to sit amongst the books whilst you ate. It was a dream fantasy of yours as a child and you’re grateful someone brought that fantasy to life.
Harry held your hand securely as you wandered through the London streets.
Luckily Harry had secured a paparazzi ban years ago that meant that no paps were legally allowed to take photos of Harry in London, so it was just fan photos that you had to be aware of.
“Angela asked me to give her your number again today.” You said to Harry.
“She’s relentless.” Harry laughed.
“She just wants to know when her future grandson-in law is going to become her in-law.”
“Baby, I’ve told you before - I’m not asking until I’m ready.” He squeezed your hand.
“No, I know. I just want Nana Angela to be alive when we get married.”
“She will be. I promise.”
You both came to a stop at a red pedestrian light. Harry pulled you back slightly, because he knew that you liked to stand far too close to the edge of the pavement.
You looked up to Harry, watching as he took in his surroundings through a pair of brown sunglasses.
“C’mere a minute.” You said, directing his head to face you.
You reached up and unclipped your claw clip from his hair and ruffled the locks until he had a messy middle parting. You bit the clip between your teeth as you messed with his hair.
“What was wrong with m’hair?” He chuckled.
“Prefer it down like this.” You shrugged your shoulders and clipped the claw clip to the top of your jumper.
You smiled at your handy work.
He looked even more handsome now.
As you crossed the road, you spotted someone with a Love on Tour tote bag. It was one of the newest ones. It was being carried by a girl in her early 20s, maybe.
You poked Harry and pointed him towards the girl.
“She had good taste in music.” He joked.
You didn’t mean to follow this girl, but only happened to stop at another pedestrian red light next to her. You stood beside her and noticed she had headphones on.
You couldn’t help yourself from nudging her shoulder. As you prodded her, she gasped and cupped a hand over her mouth in shock. She quickly took off her headphones and giggled a hi out.
“Love the tote bag!” You smiled brightly.
“Ha ha thank you! Oh my God I can’t believe you’re actually here right now.” She laughed.
“Yup. Both of us.” You pulled Harry a little closer into you.
“Hi, you alright?” He spoke shyly, as ever when he is introduced to someone new.
“This isn’t real! Holy shit.” The girl laughed the situation off. “I was nearly not going to wear this tote bag today as well.”
“Well it must be a good luck charm then.” You laughed. “Which show did you go to?”
“Wembley night 4.”
“Ahh!! The best one then!” You exclaimed, Harry chuckling from behind you.
You always did this.
You managed to make friends with absolutely anybody on the streets, over the smallest of connections. You especially loved making friends with Harry’s fans.
“Well I think so, but I might be biased.” She shrugged.
“It was one of our favourite shows, wasn’t it H?” You nudged him into the conversation, knowing that he struggles with that.
“Yeah definitely. Wembley was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.” He nodded with a smile, looking at you more so than the girl. “I’m glad you enjoyed it and thank you for the support, it means a lot.”
You internally smiled at the small spiel that you had prepped with him for occasions where he might bump into a fan.
“What was your favourite part?” You asked curiously.
“Sign of The Times in the rain.”
“Oh stop! You’re going to make me force Harry into to going on another tour ASAP just to experience that again.”
“Oh, because of course I can control the rain too love.” Harry laughed, which made you both chuckle with him.
“Shut up.” You judged him in the ribs. “Well it was lovely to meet you…”
“Emma.”
“Emma.” You smiled.
“Thank you for your continued support, Emma.” Harry added. “Would you like a photo?”
“Uh.. Y-yes? Yes please! If that’s okay with you?” Emma politely checked.
“Of course. Just as long as you wait a little bit to post it so our location isn’t instantly publicised.”
“Yes. Of course! Thank you.”
“Here, honey, give me your phone.” You held out your hand, thinking that she would have wanted you to take a photo of just her and Harry.
“You have to be in it too, Y/N!” Emma exclaimed.
“Yeah, Y/N/N.” Harry rolled his eyes at your silliness. “C’mere.” Harry roped his arm around your waist and brought you to stand slightly in front of him. Emma was directly next to you and you all smiled as she lifted her arm to take a selfie. Harry’s cheek was pressed near against yours.
“They okay?” Harry asked.
“Perfect. Thank you guys so much.” Emma smiled so brightly.
After you parted ways you couldn’t help but imagine how electric Emma must be feeling right now. Harry seemed to be happy too, because you were happy after such a heartwarming conversation.
Positive interactions just made for better days.
Later, Emma would post that photo and the comments were even more wholesome.
comment 1: the way y/n and harry are stood so close to each other
comment 2: the fact harry has his literal cheek pressed against y/ns makes me WEEP
comment 3: they look so happy i will cry
•••••••
Another place where you would find wholesome content from the fans was the world of social media.
Normally, with Harry’s previous relationship’s, they would get absolutely hated on social media. There would always be something that would get dug out from someone’s past which meant they weren’t “right” for Harry. All of it was bullshit and Harry’s previous relationships had ended because he never felt “right” with anyone.
Until you.
You were now sat with Harry’s family around a small fire pit in Anne’s back garden.
Her lovely house had a beautiful garden that was perfect for dinner evening drinks and conversations. You often think about returning here with Harry and his last name one day.
“Top up, Y/N?” Anne asked, holding out the bottle red wine up to your wine glass that empty on the table.
“Oh, no thanks Anne.” You warmly smiled.
You were comfortably nestled in Harry’s lap with a blanket drawn over the two of you. Harry was nursing his own red wine with one hand, whilst the other supported your back from where you were sat sideways across his legs. Your head was nuzzled just below his chin and your hands were busy fiddling with his necklaces.
“You okay, m’love?” Harry asked you, so only you could hear.
“Mhm. Wine has made me sleepy.”
“Rest if you need to, i’m right here.” He kissed the top of your head.
You pulled your phone out of your hoodie pocket and opened it up to Twitter.
You followed a multitude of Harry’s fans on Twitter, simply for the shits and giggles. It had become a challenge to see who would be the next person that you would follow.
Scrolling through Twitter you noticed a lot of people reposting a photo of you and Harry that got leaked today. You were both simply walking through the park, but the photo clearly showed you wearing Harry’s hoodie and everyone was screaming over it.
harriesunite: these are my parents
“H, baby, look.” You giggled as you showed him the tweet.
“Hmm?” He tucked his face down into your neck as he read your phone, and leaving your neck warm after he laughed.
“You’re such a dad, apparently.”
“Not yet I’m not.” He kissed your exposed neck, but only once when he remembered he was sat in front of his mum.
“Y’want to be?” You turned your head a little to the side to see him better.
“Whenever you want to be a mum, yeah.” He smiled so brightly.
“Soon.”
“Yeah, soon.” Harry nodded in agreement.
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charlesslut16 · 4 months
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hey babe i loved the max fic about the one wherereader pregnant, my idea/vision for part two is probably reader move somewhere probably england and live there fast forward years later they run into max. i think that's all i have thanks loveee
-gaining you to love-
summary : you and max meet again after all the trauma you had went trough
PAIRING : max verstappen x fem!reader
WARNINGS : none?
note : i hope that you like this and please request more!!!
masterlist ; Part 1
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Years had passed since you had last seen Max Verstappen. After the heartbreak, you had packed up your life and moved to England, seeking a fresh start away from the painful memories. 
You found solace in the quaint countryside and raised your child with the love and dedication that had always been your strength. In your heart, you still wished he and you could raise your child together.
But this would still always be your dream.
Your child, a vibrant and curious soul, grew up knowing about their father only through the carefully chosen stories you shared and the races you watched on television. 
It had never crossed your mind to not tell your child, who their father is. It just never felt right to you. How could you not allow your child to know the person that was one's your most loved person and their dad.
Max’s name was synonymous with greatness in the world of Formula 1, and even though you had distanced yourself, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of pride every time his name was mentioned.
One crisp autumn afternoon, you were out shopping in the bustling streets of London with your now four-year-old child. The city had a way of making you feel both anonymous and connected, a perfect blend for the life you had built.
It was not the perfect life you had chosen, but it was as perfect as it could be. As you walked through the crowded market, a familiar voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Y/N?”
You turned, and there he was—Max, your max, standing just a few feet away. He looked different, older, more mature, but the spark in his eyes was unmistakable. 
He had the same smile and the same voice, both features that broth you great happiness, a long time ago. Your heart skipped a beat, memories flooding back with an intensity that took your breath away.
“Max,” you whispered quiet, not quite believing your eyes. Max, your max, standing in front of you. Impossible, right? Your child looked up at you, sensing the shift in your emotions. 
Max took a step closer to the both of you, his eyes scanning your face as if trying to confirm that you were real. If it was really the love of his life.“I can’t believe it’s you,” he said softly. “How have you been?”
You swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice, not sure if words would come out surely and understandable.“I’ve been…good. How about you? You’ve done well for yourself. You have grown more mature”
He nodded, a hint of a smile on his lips. A smile that had not shown like that, since you left.“Yeah, it’s been a wild ride. But I’ve thought about you a lot. About us.”
Before you could respond, your child tugged at your sleeve, looking curiously at Max. You did not thread this moment, but you sure were nervous.“Mommy, is that?”
You took a deep breath, kneeling down to your child’s level. “This is, Max,” you said gently. Not too sure if your child was ready for this important moment in their life.
Max’s eyes widened as he looked at the child, realization dawning on him. It was his your child. The child he did not chose. “Is this…?” he began, his voice trailing off and cracking slightly.
You nodded, tears welling up in your eyes. “Yes, Max. This is our child.”
He looked back at you, a mix of emotions playing across his face—shock, regret, longing. All because his younger self chose his career and not his family. “Can we talk?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
You agreed, and the three of you found a quiet café nearby. As you sat down, the tension was palpable. Your child, oblivious to the emotional undercurrents, chattered happily about their favorite books and toys. 
Max listened intently, a soft smile on his face, but his eyes kept drifting back to you. He had never realized how the feeling of being content really felt until this exact moment.
Once your child was occupied with a coloring book, Max reached across the table, taking your hand in his. “I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “For everything. I was scared, and I handled it all wrong. I’ve regretted it every day since.”
Tears spilled down your cheeks as you listened to his words. “I was hurt, Max. So hurt. But I had to be strong for our child. I moved here to start over, to give them a good life.”
“You’ve done an incredible job,” he said, his eyes full of admiration. “But I want to be part of their life. I want to be a part of your life. I want us back. If you’ll let me.”
You looked at your child, then back at Max. The pain of the past was still there, but so was the love you had always felt for him. And always will.“It won’t be easy,” you said softly. “But I want what’s best for our child. They deserve to know their father.”
Max nodded with a lift of his lip, his grip on your hand tightening. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right. I want to be here for both of you. To have you both with me.”
The weeks that followed were a whirlwind of emotions as Max integrated himself into your life. He was patient and understanding, taking the time to get to know your child and to rebuild the trust between you. 
The bond that had once been so strong, that you had thought would never be like that, slowly began to mend, and the love you thought you had lost forever started to rekindle.
One evening, as you sat together in your cozy living room, your child asleep upstairs, Max turned to you with a serious expression. “I want to make up for lost time, Y/N. I want to be a family. Will you give me another chance?”
You looked into his eyes, seeing the sincerity and determination there. The years of hurt and loneliness had taken their toll, but the love had never truly faded. “I want that too, Max,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion. “I’ve always wanted that. I had always hoped for a happy ending for us.”
Max pulled you into his arms, holding you close as you both let the tears flow. It felt like coming home after a long, arduous journey. The pain of the past was still there, but it was overshadowed by the promise of a future together.
As the weeks turned into months, you and Max built a life together, full of love and laughter. Your child thrived, surrounded by the warmth of a united family. Max balanced his racing career with his newfound responsibilities, proving to be a devoted father and partner.
The journey had been long and painful, but it had led you to this moment—standing together at the finish line, not as competitors, but as a family. And as you looked at Max, you knew that despite everything, you had finally found your way back to each other.
In your heart, you had truly known that this would be the outcome. It was a dream that came through and even tho you all went to tremendous pain you would go through it as a family.
A family he chose.
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