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tender-rosiey · 10 months

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Since your requests are open I'll help myself 😋 Gojo's wife starts to have morning sicknesses, so she suspects that she's pregnant. She takes a test and finds out that she actually is pregnant. Would u please write gojo's reaction when his wife tells his that he's gonna be a daddy? 🥺💕 thanks you, please feed us with your delicious writing!!!

Also if you're not feeling well then please ignore this. Take care! Mwah^•^♡

weight — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I hope you like this, luv 🥺💕 thank you so much for your kind words and take care of yourself as well! many kisses and hugs 🫶

“shoko, I need a place to hide!” you say, bursting into the infirmary. you take the small moment of shock that shoko is in to take a much needed breath.

“what did you do this time?”

you wordlessly raise the pregnancy test with slightly shaky hands and upon seeing it, shoko drops the poor sandwich she was eating. you close the door behind you before sitting down next her.

she smiles, “nice, I am going to be an aunt,” then she looks at you confused, “why are you hiding though?”

“I need time to figure out how I will tell him or more like—“ you look at the ceiling, “face him. he will probably figure everything out with his six eyes, but I don’t know how he will react,” you wrap your arms around yourself and shoko sighs.

“you guys didn’t talk about it yet?” she stands up and goes to get you a warm drink.

you gently rock yourself, “satoru already…has so much on his shoulders,” you bury your face in your arms, “I don’t want to add to that.”

she places the mug in front of you, “you do know that he got into this relationship willingly, right? you didn’t hold him at gunpoint or anything…or did you?”

you lightly punch her shoulders, but you take the mug, muttering a small thanks, “if anyone was held at gunpoint then it would be me.”

shoko chuckles and pats your head, “you need to be able to face him, y/n. he will find out anyway, and personally, I think you should have faith in his reaction more than that,” you lock eyes, “you know him more than anyone else, after all.”

your gaze falls to your drink. its surface is so still until you softly blow and it ripples, calm the chaos.

what if you don’t know satoru as much as you thought? what if having a kid will scare him away? as the strongest, your husband has so much on his mind 24/7. will he be able to handle a baby as well?

while a part of you tells you that your husband is no coward nor is he so fragile, the other can’t help but think that perhaps this love story of 12 years will reach its end, a very tragic end even.

with the creation of a new life, ends a lifetime of feelings and events.

you snap out of your thoughts when you notice shoko shooing you into the closet room.

you hear the door open and you have a guess who it is. he makes himself known anyway, “shoko, have you seen y/n?”

shoko quirks an eyebrow and gojo huffs, “okay, fine, I know she is here, but is she mad at me? did I do something?”

you have a feeling that he is looking directly at your eyes even through the closet’s door as he speaks, “y/n, I will take you out anywhere. I don’t know what I did, but let me make it up to you. I hate when you’re upset with me, sweets.”

he is frowning lightly as he stares at the closet with hope. shoko sighs before walking out of the room, but not without patting his shoulder.

the door closes and satoru speaks up again, “can you please come out so we can at least talk about it?”

he hears your sigh and beams when you finally get out of the room, “there is my pretty girl.”

he has a flower bouquet in hand and he is looking at you so intently, but you don’t think he noticed the life growing inside of you now. he is far too focused on making you forgive him for whatever he did. you take a deep breath and look him in the eyes.

your hand moves and finally rests on your stomach.

his brows furrow lightly before his eyes widen. satoru’s breath hitches just like it did during your wedding. he places the bouquet aside before looking quickly between your eyes and stomach, “you are…”

you grip your own hands, nodding. tears start forming in your eyes till they finally fall and cries are what he sees now. your knees give out on you and you fall to the ground, now sobbing.

you are looking at the ground as you cry and hug yourself tighter, bracing yourself for whatever is coming.

satoru, almost instantly, finds himself on his knees in front of you.

his arms, like it’s second nature, pull you close into a warm and secure hug, “hey, hey,” he pats your back, a little clumsily, “if you don’t want it then it’s fine. you know I care about you the most,” his voice shakes a bit, “don’t cry please, you’re breaking my heart—“

“I am sorry, I am sorry, I am sorry,” you repeat a mantra of the same phrase as you pull him even closer. satoru cups your face and the moment you’re met with the pair of blue eyes you love so much, you break down more, “I know you—probably don’t want it but—“

he tilts his head, utterly confused and maybe even offended, “what are you talking about? of course, I want it!”

the room is silent for a moment as you process what he says. it’s like a massive weight has been lifted off your shoulders. you let out a shaky breath as you look down at your hands.

satoru rests his forehead on your own. his voice is soft and barely above a whisper as he speaks, “it’s our baby.”

the content smile on his face is almost unreal, “why in the world would you think that I wouldn’t want it anyway?” and somehow the pout on his face assures you even more.

your arms wrap themselves around his torso and you rest your head on his shoulder, “it’s just—I thought it would be burdening you with yet another responsibility. you have the world on top of your shoulders. how am I better than anyone if I weigh down even if it’s a different type of weight.”

“is it a weight for you?” he asks, voice hushed.

“of course not! I want—“ you answer immediately.

“there is your answer,” he chuckles and you look at his face once again.

you notice that he is tearing up. your satoru is tearing up, and the blindfold isn’t there to hide it nor are the glasses.

his eyes never leave yours as he says, with no waver on his voice, “I would pick you over everything else, every single time and in every single universe, silly girl.”

“you should know that already,” he flicks your forehead but the smile never leaves his face.

a soft laugh tumbles out of his lips as he pulls you in for a big bear hug, his form completely engulfing your own.

he fills tears stain his shirt, but he can only focus on your smile he feels on his skin and the fact that he voice out loud, “I will be a dad,” he sighs with contentment.

“and it’s all because of you,” he raises your face and nuzzles your noses together making you giggle, “we're going to be parents, you sweet pretty thing.”

satoru’s lips find themselves on your own in one very sweet and loving kiss. it’s soft, light, and gentle. yet it conveys all the words that he can’t get out at the moment.

when you pull away slightly, he quickly pulls you back for another, “I love you so much.”

he places a hand on your stomach, “and you too.”

“but don’t think I will share mama with you,” he sticks his tongue out at it, “she is mine!”

the baby is not even out of the womb, and yet he is already bickering with it.

you laugh and your chest feel so light. you kiss his cheek and his pout turns into a grin almost immediately. you hum, “infinity and beyond?”

his hand holds your own and he caresses your ring, “infinity and beyond.”

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do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

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mynamesaplant · 3 months

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Forgiveness is Electric

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Just a little short story about @critterbitter's hc of Emmet, Ingo, and Elesa. This is between the Volume Control and Volume Control (Reprise). Just a tiny change, Emmet caught Tynamo bc I sort of forgot when he did... My bad. Please go take a look at Critter's work, it is beautiful in every sense of the word.

I lied about posting to AO3 last time with Yearning for Wood Floors, but I will update that soon along with this one.

Enjoy!~

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“I do not think she will like those.”

“Who doesn’t love sweets?”

Ingo argued, plucking a box of Snom-Caps and turning it over and over in his hands. He contemplated the choices of candy in the aisle, the teenage clerk puffing their long, purple-streaked hair from their eyes behind the counter as the two children agonized over their decision. The clerk, Dakota, saw Ingo and Emmet in here all the time, the former had something of a sweet tooth and the latter… Well, whatever the opposite of a sweet tooth was, that was Emmet. The kid just loved sour things.

It wasn’t unusual to see them, but it didn’t usually take this long for them to make their selection. They had been there for nearly fifteen minutes, painstakingly reading each and every label and discussing them in hushed undertones. That was unusual by itself. Ingo was not known for his volume control.

Although unusual, they weren’t worried about them doing anything shady like stealing or being careless and knock things off the shelf. Might as well let them go about their business. To pass the time, they watched the fretful newly acquired Tynamo circle around them faster and faster until Emmet snatched the Pokémon deftly from the air and soothingly stroked its back.

“I am Emmet. We do not know what she likes.”

“We must do something! I just feel so dreadful.”

Emmet could see Ingo working himself up over this, just as he had a few hours ago, and Emmet placed a reassuring hand on his brother’s arm. His smile and eyes softened as his twin turned to him, Ingo’s eyes glittering with emotion and whatever proclamation dying on the back of his tongue.

He hadn’t meant it. He really hadn’t. He always got too loud when he was excited.

It had just backfired on him horribly.

Ingo cringed even now as he remembered the tears in her eyes, her hands slapped over her ears, and eyes huge with confusion and pain. She had run off before he could even apologize, and that knowledge was eating him alive all day.

Candy wouldn’t fix this. In his heart of hearts, he knew that, and maybe he had come here to grab himself some of his favorite snacks to ease the pain of losing a potential friend.

It was hard for them to understand others. Emmet and Ingo were so in-sync with each other that everyone seemed to be moving so much slower by comparison. It was like playing charades with someone who was underwater, the twins made perfect sense to one another, but it was unclear to everyone else.

This was not new to them, but it didn’t make it any less frustrating.

With their moms being busy with work and their uncle who didn’t have much interest with them most times, Emmet and Ingo came to rely on each other almost exclusively. Drayden would give them a little bit of pocket change, but never much. They had to be ultraconservative with what he gave them and had taken it upon themselves to run around Anville Town to take little odd jobs.

Leaves to rake? Oran berries to pick? Snow to shovel?

Emmet and Ingo did it all and saved what they could. They barely scraped together the money to purchase the Pokéballs needed to catch Tynamo and for additional balls to try and catch Ingo a starter.

Even though they knew everyone, they weren’t really close to anyone in town.

That could have been different if Ingo hadn’t ruined everything!

“Perhaps sweets are not the solution…”

Ingo finally admitted, setting the box down and rising to his feet. Readjusting his cap on his head and dusting off his knees to unconsciously tidy his appearance, Ingo’s frown deepened in thought. Even if he and Emmet apologized to her, Miss Elesa would not understand them. Drat! If only he had remembered her hearing aids, he had completely forgotten them tucked behind her black hair.

Emmet watched his face scrunch up, clearly having a long inner dialogue with himself where he alternatively berated himself and told himself that there was no crying over spilled milk. Gray eyes scanning the shelf, he took a bag of sour gummy-Bewear for himself, and chocolate covered pretzels for his brother, before hauling them to the counter where Dakota waited.

Tynamo drifted just below his elbow, still quite nervous around new people and often retreating to its ball when too anxious. Emmet’s soft encouragement was the only thing keeping the EleFish out while Dakota rang up both bags.

“Tynamo? Good for you, kiddo. I hear they’re not easy to catch.”

They rested their elbows on the counter, chin resting atop with a kind smile to the quieter twin. Dakota could see him beaming with pride, but he merely nodded, shuffling on the spot while he fished in the pocket of his overalls for some money. His Tynamo, like its trainer, seemed a little bashful at their words, and retreated into its ball.

“200… I think you brother is comatose over there.”

Dakota said not unkindly. Emmet jerked his head to where his brother stood motionless in front of the candy.

“Ingo!”

It was Ingo’s turn to jerk out of his, as Dakota had put it, “comatose state”. He trotted over to his side, staring at the bags of candies with confusion before it all seemed to click into place.

“You did not have to spend your pocket money on me.”

Emmet’s smile softened at the bashful note in his sibling’s voice. He wanted to. Ingo was feeling down, his twin often overthinking problems and burning himself out in the process. Emmet liked to take a step back to listen and reflect on people and conversations. A little break would do Ingo some good, so he insisted on the treats.

“I am Emmet. I wanted to. Yup!”

While Dakota bagged their treats in a small brown paper bag, they couldn’t help but lean over the counter to examine them. Although many people didn’t understand the secret code that the twins exchanged between glances, mouth twitches, and hand movements, Dakota could tell something was awry. Withholding the bag, they leaned over the counter with a faintly curious expression and a light tone.

“You guys alright?”

Unsurprisingly, the two exchanged looks, and a wordless conversation was held between them while Dakota waited. It was Ingo who swiveled his head back to face them, his face knit into a calculating grimace that seemed a little less friendly than usual, but only marginally.

“Yes,” he said slowly, eyes not breaking with the clerk, but they could see him shifting uncomfortably. “Emmet and I are attempting to right a wrong. However, we are encountering several roadblocks.”

There is a pause. Dakota still held the bag just out of reach as they gnawed on their lower lip. This wasn’t really their business, and they weren’t the type to stick their nose in where it didn’t belong… They thought of Drayden, who spent a lot of time in Opelucid and not watching his nephews – he barely spent any time with them.

They’re just kids.

“Do you need some help? It’s my job to help customers in the store y’know.”

Another pause. Another exchange of glances.

“I-” Ingo tries to being, already hard pressed to say anything and even less so when his sibling elbowed him in the ribs and shot him a look. He wouldn’t be allowed to take all the blame. “We upset one of our classmates with our carelessness. We think she was attempting to befriend us, but- uh… there were a few errors on our part.”

“And you’re trying to get candy for her to forgive you?”

“We thought about it, but it grew too complicated. We do not know what candy she likes, but more importantly, we do not think it’s a suitable apology.”

The clerk nodded, tapping the counter in thought as they tried to piece together some genuine advice for the boys.

“I think it’s a nice peace offering, but I think an apology would be better.”

“We broke her hearing aids… Yep…”

Emmet croaked suddenly, shrinking back in shame at the same time that Ingo grabbed the brim of his hat to tug it lower over his eyes.

“Ah,” Dakota hummed, tapping the counter even faster. They meant the new family that moved in from Sinnoh. They remembered their dads talking about the new signs that had to go all over town for the girl’s safety. Dakota couldn’t remember her name. “How did you break them?” They asked, already knowing the answer.

“Volume control.”

Ingo cringed, remembering his uncle’s warning about his naturally loud voice. Inside voice, Drayden had been emphasizing, and Ingo was trying to take those words to heart, but it was difficult. Since Ingo’s face didn’t emote well, he relied on his voice and his movement to articulate his emotions to others. They nod sympathetically.

“You didn’t see them?”

“No…”

The boy was squirming now, his shame and embarrassment with the situation reaching an all-time high. He felt Emmet moving to his side, reassuringly pressing against his arm, and resting his head on his twin’s shoulder. A flood of comfort helped Ingo release a breath he hadn’t realized he had been holding.

Behind the counter, the clerk was rummaging through something – although tall for their age, Emmet and Ingo couldn’t see what they were doing. They heaved a box onto the counter, tipping it so the contents spilled out for them to see, and the boys were confused.

“Headphones?”

Emmet leaned forward on his tiptoes to look at the colorful array of boxes that ranged from normal headphones to ones that had Pikachu and Eevee ears topping them.

“Yeah, uh, maybe if she wears these, you’ll remember right away that she has headphones in.”

It was a half-baked idea. In truth, Dakota felt a bit sheepish about it now that the idea was out of their head, but when they looked up, the boys were beaming – well, Emmet beamed. Ingo reminded of them of their friend’s Purrloin in a way they couldn’t quite put their finger on.

“Bravo! What a marvelous suggestion!”

Ingo practically cheered, stepping beside Emmet to look through the headphones. It was probably going to cost them a bit from the tags on the boxes, but it would be worth it. The headphones would immediately remind Ingo that she had hearing aids in so he would be more inclined to get Miss Elesa’s attention in a different fashion, but it also might do the same for others who were unaware of her deafness.

“Sure – er, thank you…” Dakota was looking at the prices now and mentally smacked their forehead. They probably couldn’t afford the headphones. “I’ll-” They hesitate. It almost pained them to say what they were going to next. “I’ll pay for them so you can take them to her now.” The twins’ eyes went wide, both about to protest when Dakota interrupted, “In exchange, you can do a few chores for me at my place. I need to do some yardwork, but it always gives me hay fever. Sound like a deal?”

The answer was easy for them. Dakota told them to pick ones that they thought Miss Elesa would like.

“I think these ones are quite dashing.”

Ingo said, picking up the box with the Pikachu ears. Emmet pursed his lips and shook his head.

“Nope. Too big. Not a gamer girl.”

They continued to rummage through the boxes. They agreed that she must like Electric types. She had a Blitzle as her partner after all.

“I cannot recall, she is from Hoenn, correct?”

Emmet shrugged, unsure himself because they had both been looking through a magazine with an expose on the newest train lines running out of Nimbasa when she had been introduced. That just meant to them that, when the time came, going on their Pokémon journey by rail would be all the easier.

“Not sure.” He looked at the box Ingo had in his hand and his smile broadened, nodding in agreement to his brother’s unasked query. The perfect balance of subtle but stylish. “I am Emmet. Those are perfect.”

Plusle and Minun headphones.

#pokemon #submas #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #sorry critter #i started writing about Tynamo before i remembered he probably didn't have it by that point #im just gonna say newly acquired and cross my fingers #tynamo is shy #nobody knows about it #🤞🤞🤞🤞🤞

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pinksturniolo · 20 days

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Switch - Chris and Matt Sturniolo (Part One)

Chris x Matt and Fem Reader

Summary: Cherry Bomb - The largest underground BDSM club in Los Angeles, California. Its member list is extremely exclusive, only granting access to celebrities, influencers and the filthy rich. No one really cares who you are or what you do, they come for one thing and one thing only. Whatever happens at the Cherry stays at the Cherry….

Content warnings: smut, oral, fingering, protected sex, bondage, spanking, teasing, threesome

this story has heavy themes and descriptions of bdsm, so if you’re not comfortable with that pls don’t read <3

word count: 3,879

Neon lights bounce off the shiny black walls, loud music playing but not too loud that you can’t hear what the blonde guy next to you is saying. He’s been talking your ear off for the last 20 minutes, while you zone out, sipping on your lemon club soda. This was the only time you wished they served alcohol here so you could at least be tipsy enough to endure the men that have been approaching you tonight.

Your usual partner hasn’t shown up yet and you have already been here for almost an hour. You try to ignore the slight ache in your chest though, focusing your attention back to the man next to you.

“So, how long you been coming here?” He asks.

“About 6 months now.” You reply.

“Damn, I feel like an amateur." He laughs, “This is only my second time.”

Obviously.

You hated to think so rudely but every person you’ve talked to tonight just wasn’t the one you preferred. You were starting to get extremely impatient, wondering where he was. He was never late.

As if your internal monologue has been heard by a higher power, you feel a hand on the back of your neck and turn in your seat to see the same man you were just thinking of. He has a dark look on his face as he eyes the person next to you.

“I don’t think she’s very interested buddy, why don’t you go bother some other poor girl.” He says to him, his hand now curling around your shoulder possessively.

The blonde guy’s face reddens with embarrassment as he quickly scrambles up from his chair. “Sorry man, I didn’t know she was yours.” he says and quickly walks off.

You scoff as your partner sits next to you, ordering a water from the waitress.

“That was unnecessary.” You say, his face still annoyed as he relaxes into the chair, his arm still slung around the back of you. He takes a long sip of his water, avoiding looking at you. You see his jaw clench and he runs a hand through his hair before speaking.

“What were you doing talking to that loser anyways?” He finally asks, making eye contact with you and he looks pissed.

“Oh my god, are you jealous Matt? Maybe you should’ve been here on time before other guys had the chance to talk to me.” you reply, a teasing smile appearing on your face.

He then grabs the side of your chair, pulling it forcefully towards him, causing you to gasp out. Your thighs are touching, and his hand moves from the back of your chair to the nape of your neck, sliding up to knot his fingers in your hair and pull slightly.

“Maybe you shouldn’t entertain other men when I’m not around and wait patiently for me like a good girl. Or do you need me to remind you who you belong to? Hm?” He whispers in your ear threateningly. Your core pulses with arousal at his words, his warm breath on your neck causing tingles to shoot down your spine.

So of course, this leads to you replying with a smart remark, which makes him take you to the candy room and punish you until you beg for forgiveness.

There were numerous rooms in the club that members could use, their time limit being an hour. But the main rooms that were larger and you could reserve for however long you wanted (at a high price) were only four. The star room, the red room, the flower room and the candy room.

The candy room is where you and Matt spend most of your encounters together at the Cherry Bomb. However, there’s nothing sweet about it besides the name. Its walls are painted red, a black bed with silk sheets in the middle and glossy black floors. There’s a cabinet of floggers, ropes, leather and fuzzy cuffs, vibrators and anything else you can imagine.

There’s no particular reason why it’s your favorite but Matt has been reserving it for you since you met him here and it’s become a routine on a Saturday night, twice a month.

Cherry Bomb has been around since the late 80s and has done a particularly good job at keeping its participants a secret, mainly due to the NDA you have to sign upon your first entry, along with a recent STD panel and heavy entrance fee. They also prohibited alcohol and drug use.

You were referred by one of your friends, which made it easier for you to get in. The money was no issue for you, but the wait list was long and having a friend on the inside had its benefits.

You instantly loved it from the first time you came. The atmosphere wasn’t grungy or too dark like you would expect a typical sex club to be. No one seemed to care who you were here, there was no judgement, and it was a safe place to act out your wildest fantasies, with whoever you choose.

You had had experiences with a couple different men and women, all which were satisfying for the most part. Most people had a habit of choosing a particular partner and being loyal to them, while others constantly swapped, not staying with one person too long.

When you met Matt, you instantly clicked, and found something in him that you hadn’t felt with any other member. He approached you one night, his demeanor confident but also calm. The energy flowed between you two, and once he got you to the room alone, it was fireworks. He was very clear on consent being an important aspect and boundaries were established before anything else.

Matt was a switch, like you. While most of the time he preferred to be dominate, he could also be submissive which was heaven to you. You loved it when he took control, using your body however he pleased, and he knew the best way to handle your brattiness. Because as much as it felt good to submit to him, you also had a fiery attitude which only made the pleasure of his punishment better.

He made you beg till you cried, spanked you so hard you had marks for weeks, and would tie you to the bed and fuck you until your brain was fuzzy, and your throat was raw from screaming his name. Making you cum over and over again until you were numb.

But when he was the submissive for the night… it was a whole different experience. There was nothing better than the feeling of him begging you to please him, demanding him to do whatever you wanted. Edging him until he was whimpering for you, teasing him and seeing how much he enjoyed it. Nothing compared.

And the best part about Matt that you liked, was that he always took the time to make sure you had the proper after care after each session. Cleaning you up, getting you water if you needed it, and even massaging your body if he went particularly hard on you that night.

He was currently holding you after tonight's session was done, rubbing small soothing circles on your back, your head cradled against his chest. You can hear his heart beating at a relaxed pace, calming you as your own heart slows down to match his tempo.

He breaks the sweet silence, his velvety voice pulling you out of your trance. “Y/N… I have a question for you.”

“Mhm?” You mumble, your fatigue settling in.

“How do you feel about a threesome?” He says, his hand stroking over the top of your head.

You’re alert now, lifting your head to turn and look at him. His eyes are half closed, a lazy smile on his face as he waits for your answer.

“I think it’s pretty hot. Is that something you want to do?” You reply.

“Are you comfortable with that?” He asks.

“I’ve experienced them before, yes. Depends… who would it be with?”

His bottom lip is pulled in between his teeth, a contemplative look on his face.

“I know someone that’s interested. In you. He’s always wanted to come to Cherry but he’s hesitant.” Matt says and your heart rate picks up a little at his words.

“He’s interested in me?” You ask, surprised at the fact that Matt talks about you outside of the club. That would be breaking the NDA.

He strokes his hand over the side of your face, caressing your jaw with his fingers. His eyes are soft, like they always are at the end of the night, adoring you with affection.

“Sorry, princess. I know I’m technically not supposed to talk to anyone about this. But I trust him… and I wouldn’t have said anything if I knew you would be upset.” He says.

You sit up now, fully facing him, and place your arms on either side of him, one hand resting on his chest and the other on his bicep.

“I know, I’m not upset. I’m flattered actually.” You say, smirking, the idea of what he’s proposing piquing your curiosity.

“Mm. Don’t get too cocky. But if you would like to try it out, I’ll tell him to come with me next time.” He tells you.

Your mind races at the thought of a threesome with him and another man, wondering how exactly that would change the dynamic between you two. Matt could be a little possessive and you were more than satisfied with just him as your partner but it made you think of how he would be able to share you. It excites you. He must trust this other person a lot.

“Who is it?” You ask him and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head at you with an amused look.

“It’s a surprise.”

✰✿

You return to Cherry Bomb two weeks later, more nervous than you had been any other time you’ve come. But your anticipation outweighs your nerves as you sit at the bar, patiently waiting for Matt. You’re wearing a skin tight black lace dress that’s basically see through, showing your matching black lingerie set underneath. Sleek red heels are on your feet, your hair falling in soft loose waves that frame your face and a light coat of mascara through your eyelashes.

You took the time to put extra effort into your appearance tonight, and practically everyone in the club notices, staring at you as they wander around. But you pay no mind, your focus on the soda in front of you. Matt would be fuming with rage if he knew you were entertaining anyone else tonight and usually you would play with fire but given the special circumstances, you decided not to mess with him tonight.

The waitress hands you a note, pulling you out of your thoughts. She smiles at you politely before walking off, attending to another customer.

Meet me in the red room.

It’s Matt’s handwriting. He’s never done this before, always meeting you at the bar and then escorting you to your usual room. Your palms sweat as you stand from your chair and make your way to the large room at the end of the hall with the red door.

The red room. It was the largest room in the club, and the only one you hadn’t been in before. You’ve heard rumors of how luxurious it was which is why it was so hard to book. How Matt was able to get it tonight, you’re not sure.

You take a deep breath and adjust your dress, pushing the door open. The cool air of the room hits you, tiny goosebumps erupting on your skin. Your heart picks up speed at the sight of Matt centered directly at the center edge of the bed. He’s also dressed in all black, his eyes roaming up and down your body in hunger as you saunter over to him.

Wait. Is that Matt? You pause in front of him, a few feet away. His hair is longer, and his face is extremely similar but with a slight difference. And his aura is arrogant. But when you make eye contact with him, you feel butterflies gather in your stomach, his blue eyes making you drown with attraction. It’s the same feeling Matt gives you but there’s something different about him.

You now realize it’s not Matt at all.

The smug smile on his lips that’s been growing since he noticed the confusion on your face only widens, his hands gripping the sides of the bed, making the muscles in his arm flex. He looks incredibly strong.

“Looking for someone?” He asks teasingly and you can already feel the pool of wetness growing by the second in your underwear.

“Where’s Matt?” You ask sweetly, tilting your head. Your arms are crossed and your eyes narrow, fighting the smile that threatens to break through.

Let the games begin.

The stranger in front of you chuckles, leaning back on his arms now, his legs spreading slightly in jeans. He licks his lips, looking you up and down again. You can’t help but do the same.

“What’s wrong sweetheart? Don’t like what you see?” He says, his bottom lip stuck out in a fake pout.

You smile at him, mocking the tone in his voice. “I prefer princess.”

He laughs lowly, biting his lip and looks behind you. “You weren’t lying when you said she was a brat.” He says and you whip your head around, shocked to see Matt sitting in the love seat at the corner of the room.

You hadn’t noticed him at all when you walked in, given the darkness of the room and the fact he was so quiet during your exchange.

Matt has a blank expression, not looking at you. “Call her whatever you want, Chris.”

You can see that he’s dressed in a plain white shirt and black jeans. It’s simple, like the clothes he usually wears but he still looks incredible.

You’re still turned towards him, giving Chris a full view of your ass now, which you’re sure he’s appreciating.

“I didn’t know you had a twin.” You tell him, your eyebrows raised in amusement.

The corners of his lips twitch as he fights a smile, exchanging a look with Chris that you can’t decipher. “There’s a lot of things about me you don’t know.”

He gets up from his seat now and crosses the room to where you are. You’re about to respond with a witty remark but he’s suddenly gripping your arms, turning you around forcefully to face Chris again.

Your ass is pressed into his crotch, and you feel him harden against you. You gasp lightly as he places his mouth next to your ear, whispering lowly.

“That’s enough from you, Princess. I suggest you keep your mouth shut unless it’s a yes or no. Understand?”

You nod slowly, and Chris watches with fascination at the way Matt handles you. You can see how visibly turned on he is, his boner straining through his jeans.

You’re more aroused than you’ve ever been, the feeling of Matt’s strong grip on your arms, as he places soft wet kisses on the curve of your neck and the look in Chris’ eyes as they burn into yours, his pupils blown out.

“Are you comfortable? You know your safe word, right?” He asks you, his tone a little lighter. He wraps one hand around your throat, the other on your left hip and squeezes.

“Yes.” You breathe. “Good.” He replies, releasing you completely and you feel him back up from behind you. “Now get on your knees.”

Your heart races as you sink down, Chris’ eyes following your every moment. He hasn’t taken them off you since you entered the room and something in his eyes made you very nervous but incredibly excited at the same time.

Matt is now seated on the opposite side of the room, in a large leather chair. He’s directly in front of you now, to the side of Chris. You sit obediently on your knees, your eyes still focused on him as he speaks his next set of instructions.

“Why don’t you show Chris how you put that mouth to good use.” he says, nodding his head for you to continue.

You swallow and look away from Matt now, to see an enticing smirk on his brother’s face. He spreads his legs farther open as he adjusts himself on the bed, unbuckling his belt from his jeans. He places it on the mattress next to him and pulls his jeans down and off his legs.

You scoot closer to him, positioning yourself between his legs, your hands resting on top of his thighs. The look in your eyes is enough to get his heart racing like yours, and he curls a finger under your chin, tugging your face closer to him as he leans down.

“Let me taste your lips, sweetheart.” He says softly and connects his mouth to yours.

Now you can tell the real difference between them. Matt is harsh, yet caring. His energy penetrates you with a feeling of deep connection, a tie that binds you to him in one more ways then one. The trust you two have built over the past few months comes through when your bodies mesh with one another. He knows just what to say to please you and you in return, love to obey his every wish and command.

But Chris… he kisses you like he’s starving. He’s sweet, yet strong. It’s all new territory to explore, and you can almost taste the desperation on his tongue. His hands are soft against your face, warmth flooding your body at the feeling of his touch. You wonder just how much Matt has expressed to him, what secrets he’s revealed about all the sinful, delicious acts you’ve conceived with him in the candy room.

Chris is magnetic, his wet, hot kisses making you ache in your core. He finally pulls away from you, his jaw clenched, his eyebrows furrowed in a dark look. “Take your dress off.” He speaks.

You pull it off with no hesitation, up and over your head, now in your lingerie beneath him.

He drinks in the sight of your half naked body, your tits pushing against your bra, the hem of your black thong high on your hips and you slip your heels off.

He pulls his dick out, red tip leaking with precum already. He’s practically the same length as Matt, with a little more girth. It’s a little intimidating but your needs overpower, your mouth watering as you look at him.

You open your mouth, puckering your lips to let a pool of saliva drip down onto his length and you make eye contact with Matt, the look he gives you making a spark run through you.

Chris groans as you look back at him, spreading your spit down him with your hand before you wrap your lips around his tip, swirling your tongue. “Shit… feels so fucking good.” He rasps.

His chest is moving up and down as he breathes deeply, exhaling from his nose as he grits his teeth, and you take him further into your mouth. It’s a little hard to adjust to his size but you do, bobbing your head as he brushes the back of your throat, making you gag slightly.

He moans loudly, bucking his hips up slightly. He pulls your hair back from your face, holding it into a ponytail, tightly, pulling at your hair a little. This makes you moan in return around him, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the pleasure. The air in the room is thick now, the sounds of Chris fucking your mouth and his groaning filling the space. You can feel Matt’s stare on you, and your knees dig into the softness of the shaggy black carpet, your grip on Chris’s thighs tightening.

“Fuck.” He pants, and moves his hands down your back, your body bending slightly so your ass poked out, allowing him access to feel you up. He caresses the flesh of your cheeks, massaging them before he brings one hand down to smack you.

You jolt slightly, not expecting him to do that, and hum around him, your thighs clenching.

“Yeah? You like that?” he says, smacking you once more, making it sting a little. You make another noise of approval, his cock still stuffed down your throat but then pull out, with a response you’re later bound to regret. “Not hard enough.”

You look up through your lashes at him and your heart races from how mad he looks. When Matt gets that mad, his eyes glaze over, and his face is cold. But Chris smiles. Even though his eyes are hard, there’s a grin on his face that says, ‘You have no idea what you just started.’ It’s insanely attractive.

He then reaches next to him, the metal of his belt clanking. He folds it, and you see the genuine leather thick in his hand.

He grabs the back of your head, knotting his fingers in your hair. “Did I tell you to stop?”

You glance at Matt and his hand palms over the hardness in his jeans, his other hand gripping on the arm of the chair.

Fuck.

You take Chris into your mouth again, your ass in the air for him. He sighs as he slips back down your throat, dragging the belt across you. He does this agonizingly slow, your head working on him. Finally, he slaps your it on your ass, hard. You moan loudly, your nails digging into his thighs. “How’s that, princess?”

You breathe out hard from your nose, the harsh sting of the belt lingering. Chris rubs his hand over your cheek, soothing the skin there, allowing you a few seconds of relief before he brings it down against you again, a loud smack ringing in the air.

You cry out, tears forming in your eyes and bring your head up slightly, gasping for air.

See, the pain… the pain sucked. You saw red each time you were punished like this but after the few seconds of hurt passes, you feel a rush of euphoria, and tingles of pleasure you just can’t get enough of.

“Hm? Don’t got anything to say now? Is this what you wanted?” Chris says, his large hands squeezing and rubbing you, before bringing his belt down once more against you. All you can do now is whimper, your actions on Chris at a complete stop, while you grip his thighs, tears now streaming down your face, mascara running.

You look up at him through your pitiful tears, his teeth sunken into his bottom lip so hard it almost draws blood. Your face is flushed, lips red and swollen. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.” He whispers and your heart flutters at his compliment.

You wonder if Matt heard and flick your gaze to him again. His jeans are unbuttoned now, his black boxers showing, his hand still on himself but not moving. He smirks, enjoying the fucked out look on your face.

Chris then grips your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look back at him.

“What do you think Matt? Think she deserves to cum?”

“Give her what she wants.” He replies.

a/n: soooo this one was supposed to be a full one shot but i had to split it into two parts or else it was gonna be too long lol i had this idea in my head i just had to write it out, so i promise i'll work on the final part of my matt series soon!!

taglist <3 :

@christhopersturniolo @sturniolopepsi @tillies33ssss @whicked-hazlatwhore @riasturns @junnniiieee07 @junovrsmp4 @sturnsjtop @seahorsie11 @inveigledvex @honestlyjb @mattslolita @stingerayyy2 @glassesmattsbae @eryismum @sturncakez @sturnioloco @wh0resstuff @muwapsturniolo

#matthew sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo fanfic

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rinslutz · 9 months

Note

Can i order uuuhhh a dose of second chance romance with satoru? You broke up with him because his ass cheated but now that you guys are starting over, you can't help but still doubt his efforts. (having massive trust issues) but he of course promised to do whatever it takes to gain your trust again. Lots of reassurance pls. We love a devoted Satoru ☹️🤞

ᥫ᭡ “AFRAID” — GOJO SATORU

ㅤꞋꞌꞋꞌ fem!reader, hurt/comfort, exes to lovers, mentions of cheating, gojo pleads on his knees, gojo is pathetic, reassuances

a/n: anon…you awoken something in me. this is much longer than i wanted it to be and its a bit more than you asked for, sorry.

2 weeks 4 days 15 hours 56 minutes 12 seconds. that’s how long it’s been since satoru last saw you. he wishes he hasn’t been keeping track of the time but it’s the only thing keeping him from succumbing to his sadness. he hates himself for being sad. he doesn’t deserve to feel sad. all of this is his fault.

satoru has been wallowing in his self pity for the past 2 weeks. if he didn’t have a class to teach, he’s sure he would never move from his bed. school and home. those are the only two places you’ll find satoru. so when suguru notices that he hasn’t seen his loser best friend in 2 weeks he “kidnaps” him as satoru claims.

“have you even tried talking to her?” suguru asks nonchalantly. satoru’s nose crinkles in annoyance. why would he ask such a stupid question?

“she doesn’t want to speak to me.” satoru says dryly. this conversation is already starting to frustrate him. he runs his hands down his face.

“did you try though?” satoru is convinced that suguru’s only goal right now is to annoy him. if he wanted to talk about his failing relationship with him, he would’ve called him weeks ago.

satoru sighs obnoxiously, “of course i haven’t. she probably doesn’t want me within 10 feet of her. she hates me.” saying that aloud for the first time makes his eyes burn with tears. he rubs them furiously, not wanting to cry in front of suguru.

“so,” suguru pauses to chew the chips he’s been snacking on the whole time. “you mean to tell me you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” suguru’s statement and the crinkling of his bag of chips send satoru’s annoyance into overdrive. he snatches the bag from suguru’s hands, balls it up, and throws it into a nearby trash can.

“hey, don’t get pissy with me because i’m right.” suguru holds his hands up in defense.

satoru doesn’t reply. he is right though. satoru has convinced himself that he should try to speak to you because you wouldn’t want to hear it anyway. in reality, he’s afraid. afraid to face you. afraid to get confirmation that he has lost you forever. but if there’s even a slight chance that begging on his knees would work, he would do it immediately.

you hate him. you hate how even after what he did every part of him, every memory you made with him, every time he told you he loves you, still occupies your brain. the stupid smile still pops into your brain when you’re having a particularly bad day. you wish with some much in you that picturing his smile didn’t immediately make you feel better. it was that smile though. the smile that’s only reserved for you.

you wish you hated him for cheating on him. you’re just hurt. your chest hurts every day. every morning you wake up with sore red eyes from crying yourself to sleep. you hope he’s been crying himself to sleep too, though you doubt it. as desperate as satoru usually acts you expected him to try and contact you. at least once. you got nothing and somehow that hurt more than his infidelity.

the quiet night you’re having is interrupted by the loud and persistent knock at your door. you have no idea who it could be at this hour, so you don’t move immediately. maybe it’s a neighbor wanting to borrow something. if you don’t move maybe they’ll think you’re not here.

“baby?”

your head snaps to the door in surprise. almost immediately, tears spring to your eyes. it hurts hearing his voice for the first time in 2 weeks. you don’t move. you want to open the door but you know you shouldn’t.

“please…can we talk?” it's rare to hear him speak this softly. satoru’s loud knocks begin to soften. you reluctantly get up from your spot on the couch to open the door. you open the door but not all the way, only enough to see his face.

he stands there with red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks. he stands there awkwardly. not sure what to do with his arms, they lay flat at his sides.

“can i come in?”

“leave.” you choke out. you refuse to cry in front of him.

“i can’t.” he steps closer to you. “i need to talk to you. i…i need you.”

you wish you didn’t say that. you wish he didn’t sound so broken when he said it. and because you’re weak for him you let him in. even though you let him in you don’t let him more than 3 feet inside.

you two just stare at each other for moments. his eyes rake over you, taking in every part of you. it felt like an eternity since he’s seen you, he had begun to convince himself that he forgot what you looked like. a stupid thought since he often stared at the small picture of you he kept in his wallet.

“i’m sorry.”

you laugh at that and satoru feels like everything is already falling apart. he’s already messed up. your bitter laugh makes the tip of his ears redden and burn in embarrassment.

“you’re sorry? that’s what you came here to say?”

he wants to tell you that it’s not true, but he didn’t come here to say sorry. he is sorry whether you believe him or not.

“you fucked someone else but you’re sorry so it’s okay right?” your voice is harsh and bitter. and if it weren’t for the tears streaming down your face he would assume you’re just angry. you’re hurt instead and he’s the reason why.

“no that’s not what i’m trying to say.” he shakes his head softly, “it’s not okay. i did the one thing you told me you could never forgive me for.”

if you didn’t love him you would laugh again. if you didn’t love him you would kick him out right now. but if you didn’t love him you would feel empty right and somehow that’s much worse.

“i am sorry. i wish i could explain why i did it-”

“cheated. you cheated. instead of saying “it” say the word gojo.”

he swallows that lump forming in his throat. the way you said his name burned his ears. the bitter tone and the fact that it was his last name.

“i cheated and i regret it so fucking much.”

unconsciously he reaches to grab your hand. when you don’t pull away, he grips your hand tighter. if this is the last time he ever gets to touch you, any part of you, he wants to remember the way your soft skin feels against his. he wants to memorize the way your hand fits perfectly in his and the way your hand warms his cold fingertips.

“i love you so much and i need you. i know you don’t need me but i don’t know what i’m doing. i-i can’t think straight, i can barely breathe when i’m not near you.” he has to swallow again to keep from crying.

“i hate you.”

“i know. i hate me too.”

when you don’t say anything satoru thinks he’s making progress. your eyes don’t hold the anger that they once did. then you pull your hand from his and satoru swears the earth shakes. he pulls his hand back to his side. he clenches his fists, his fingernails pierce his skin. he hopes the pain will distract him from the pain of his heart being ripped out of his chest.

“please,” he says weakly.

you don’t want to give in. he’s done nothing to deserve your forgiveness. you hate yourself for wanting to pull him against you to wipe away his tears. you hate yourself for wanting to forgive. you hate him for sounding so sincere.

“how can i ever trust you again?” satoru doesn’t know how to answer that. you shouldn’t trust him again. satoru is confident that he’d never betray your trust again because the pain of being apart from you like this again very well might kill him. and he’d rather died than hurt you again.

he knows that there’s so way for you to be certain that he won’t hurt you again. you can’t see into his brain or his heart. you can’t see the way his soul yearns to intertwine with yours again, forever.

before he can answer suguru’s stupid voice fills his head. “you mean to tell me. you cheated on your girl, she kicked your ass out, and you’re not begging on your knees for forgiveness right now?” he knows he deserves to beg on his knees. you deserve to have him pathetically beg for your forgiveness.

so, without another word, he bends down on his knees. he grabs both of your hands in his and looks up at you. his heart beats heavily in his chest.

“i will never hurt you again. i promise. i will do anything you want me to in order to prove it to you.” his knees were already beginning to hurt. this pain is nothing compared to the pain he’ll feel if you never forgive him.

“you don’t have to forgive me. you shouldn’t. i’m just asking for a chance to prove myself to you.” he grips your hands tighter, afraid you’ll pull away again.

you’re sure you're making the dumbest decision of your life. you’re weak for him and you may always be. when you left him the night you found out he cheated, you left with your heart still in his hands. tonight, you’ll let him keep it for a little while longer.

“one chance. you fuck up even a little-” before you’re able to finish your sentence, your lips are pressed against him. one of his presses against the back of your head, keeping you pressed against him. the familiar warmth of his lips against yours makes you melt against him. you slowly and reluctantly wrap your arms around his waist.

a small sob slips from his lips, making you jump slightly. tears fall from his eyes again, wetting both of your cheeks. his arms grip you tighter, almost as if he’s afraid you’ll slip away.

“thank you,” he whispers against your lips

he’s late. for anyone in a normal relationship, this wouldn’t be that bothersome. unfortunately for you, you don’t completely trust your boyfriend. not a hundred percent.

it’s eleven pm and he was meant to be home an hour ago. you tried reasoning with yourself. maybe he is stuck fighting a curse? maybe the higher-ups forced him into doing something? you tried thinking of anything besides the one thing that’s nagging at your brain.

he promised and you believed him. you’re starting to think you’re an idiot for trusting him, trusting that he’d stay loyal. how could you have been so dumb?

you’re staying at his apartment tonight, per his request. he promised that he’d be home in time to catch the new episode of your shared favorite show. he broke that promise so what other promises will he break tonight?

you hear the sound of a key entering the door and seconds later it opens. satoru walks in quietly. there’s a certain look on his face that you cant read. you assume the worst. before you can think critically you shoot up from your spot on the couch and storm over to him.

“how was it?” your voice is bitter and you hate the way it cracks at the end. you hate the way your eyes are already beginning to burn.

satoru look at you, confused. he’s not sure what you mean or why you’re angry. he’s tired and he’s not sure he can deal with this right now. the events of today and the fact that he needed to stay at work later than usual is taking a toll on his body.

“baby, what are you talking about?” he reaches for you and you back away from him. for a second he feels the memories of that day flood his mind. the familiar way you back away from him, the familiar look in your eyes. you can’t possibly think that right now.

“no. hey, don’t let your mind go to that.” he successfully grabs your hand in his and pulls it to his lips. immediately you feel the harsh beating in your chest slow down.

“did you cheat on me?” you ask. you just want an answer now. you need to know if you’ll be leaving tonight or falling asleep in his arms as usual.

“no. i promised you. do you want me to get on my knees for you again?” the look in his eyes is unwavering. when you don’t answer he falls to his knees in front of you.

“a curse attacked a town and killed hundreds of people. it was pretty powerful and it took me longer than usual. that’s where i was. i promise.” he stares into your eyes. there is no hint of a lie to be found.

“i know it’s going to take you a while to trust me again. i will get on my knees every day and promise not to hurt if that’s what it will take.”

you feel like a fool even though you shouldn’t. he understands that you don’t trust him completely and he’s working toward that. you’re embarrassed even though he’s the one on his knees right now. you nudge his hand and motion for him to get up.

“i’m sorry-”

“no. you have nothing to be sorry for.” once he stands he grabs your face in both of his hands. one of his thumbs brushes against you bottom lip. his eyes are soft as he looks at you.

“i promise.” he doesn’t need to say what he promises. you know what he means. he pulls your face towards his and places a sloppy kiss against your lips.

“i love you.” you don’t reply but he knows you love him too.

©rinslutz

#gojo x you #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk angst #gojo angst #gojo satoru angst #jujutsu kaisen angst #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jjk gojo

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talaok · 9 months

Text

Our own

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

Summary: After spending the day with Tommy and Maria, you can’t help but notice how great Joel is with their baby, and a thought sparks your mind.

Listen I’m not gonna sit here and pretend I proofread this ok? I'm an honest woman. You may forgive me or not, either way, I'm going to sleep. Bye loves

The sun was high in the sky, birds were chirping, a soft breeze was flowing through your hair... and Tommy was taking his goddamn time opening the goddamn door.

"I told you you should have gone to the bathroom when we left" Joel chuckled by your side

"Now's really not the time Jo-"

Your next words got stuck in your throat as the sound of the lock opening caught your attention.

"Hey guys, I'm sorry the bab-"

"don't worry" you immediately stopped him, feeling your bladder about to burst "Could I use your bathroom?"

He did a poor job of concealing his surprise.

"Uh-Yea sure, it's right up there on the-"

You flew past him, only half minding where his finger was pointing.

"left" he mumbled, an amused smile creeping on his lips as he let his gaze travel to his brother

Joel shrugged, a similar grin tugging at his own lips "I told her to go before we went out"

__ __ __

You walked out of the bathroom feeling like a brand new woman, ready to face whatever life threw at you, which in this case... was following the sound of laughter coming from the backyard.

What appeared on the other side of the window, was a perfect portrait of a happy family.

Tommy and Maria's smiles were brighter than any star in the sky as they watched Eithan, their baby boy, cradled in Joel's arms, looking almost comically small next to his biceps.

And Joel... Joel had a look on his face you had never quite seen. It wasn't just joy, or adoration... there was something in his eyes, in the way his mouth twitched as the baby's small hands reached for his nose, as he caressed his cheek and willed his hands to act as if he were touching porcelain.

You could not put a finger on what it was, but you couldn't either understand what was happening to you.

A warmth had taken over your chest, cheeks... your entire body. And something was fluttering in your belly, it wasn't butterflies no, it was more like- like bunnies, countless little bunnies hopping in your stomach and twisting and turning your insides.

It was perhaps the first time in your life your body had understood something before you could.

A wave brought you back to reality, to life, to the portrait before your eyes.

It was Maria, Maria was waving at you to come out with them, so, of course, you did, begging your legs not to give up on you as the same strange sensation threatened your every step.

"hey" You managed "Sorry for before"

"don't even bother, I'm used to it by now" Tommy huffed out a laugh, nudging Maria by his side

She rolled her eyes dramatically, her mouth betraying her as its edges turned up.

"Ignore him," she said, "please sit, I've been dying to talk to another human being without having to use a baby voice"

You snorted, taking your place next to Joel at the round wooden table.

"That bad huh?"

"God you have no idea..."

Maria went on to talk, about Eithan about... something, but your attention had moved elsewhere by the time she was done with the first sentence.

You watched Joel softly rocking the baby, the smile on his face, the glint in his eyes, and you couldn't help but think

God, how I wish it was our own

__ __ __

"Are you ok darlin'?"

Joel's voice startled you enough to make you gasp.

You had been in your own head for so long that you hadn't even realized you had walked all the way home.

"yeah, why?"

"you've just been real quiet, 's all"

he shrugged, closing the front door behind him.

"I'm fine- Everything's fine," you said a bit too quickly, walking to the kitchen while purposely avoiding his eyes

The footsteps behind you told you he hadn't taken the hint, and was following you.

"what's going on?"

You reached for a glass and filled it up to the brim only to realize you weren't even a little bit thirsty.

"nothing" you mumbled, setting the glass on the counter and finally meeting his scrutinizing gaze "It's nothing" you shook your head

"sweetheart..." he walked until he stood in front of you "Whatever it is you can tell me, y'know?"

Your mouth opened and closed but no sound had come out.

"I just-" you bit your bottom lip "it's nothing, really, it's stupid"

A soft smirk rose from his lips "Now that I don't believe, nothing stupid has ever come out of that petty mouth" One of his rough fingers went to trace your cupid bow "C'mon now, darlin' what is it?"

"I-" you tried, before retracing immidately "You have to promise not to laugh, or freak out... or do anything that isn't reacting calmly"

He couldn't help the frown creasing his forehead "I promise" he swore nonetheless.

"Ok" you took a small breath.

This wasn't gonna be easy, not with his past, not with everything he had to endure, not with him.

"I-I watched you today with Eithan, and-well-I-" You shut your eyes, unable to take more of his big brown eyes boring into yours

"What, sugar?"

"Well, it- it made me think"

Something flashed behind his eyes

"About what?"

You swallowed the sand in your mouth "About how great of a dad you'd be" you murmured "to our own child"

Now was his turn to be at a loss for words.

He looked at you, so many thoughts, memories, and fears swirling in his mind that he could have fainted, if it wasn't of course, for you, for the expression on your face, for the hope and anxiety painting your every perfect inch.

It was a mess, his brain was a mess, everything was a mess, and yet he'd never felt more sure.

he should have been scared, terrified even, but all he could feel was joy.

"I know it's crazy" you spoke "With what's going on and everything... and I know we already have Ellie in a way... and I know it must be difficult because of what happened to Sarah, and it's completely ok if you don't want to, I understand, really, so please don't feel pressured to-"

"sweetheart"

one word was all it took for him to stop your rambling.

You looked up at him, catching your reflection in the hazel pool of his eyes.

"yes?"

"There is nothing more I'd love in this world than to have a baby with you"

"a-are you sure, b-because as I sai-"

He chuckled, his forehead falling to yours and his hands holding your face.

"darlin'" he paused, a smile on his lips "believe me, I don't think I've ever been more sure of anything in my life"

A breath got caught in your throat as fireworks went off somewhere in your brain.

"Yeah?" was all you could master

"yeah" he laughed, his lips meeting yours in a mess of tears, teeths and laughters "We're gonna have a baby"

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fluff #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #joel miller x y/n #joel miller x fem reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x fem!reader #Pedro Pascal characters

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sukunasdumbestchef · 4 months

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way how i see you.

True form!Sukuna x Blind!Fem!reader

꒰You are the one and only wife of the King of Curses, but you don't just have this peculiarity… you are also blind. And painting is your way of painting and trying to represent what you see, even if it's just a little.꒱

Fluff, but cheesy.

BAD ENGLISJ SORRY😭

It was actually a secret… blindness. No one suspected…not even the King, Sukuna Ryomen. You hid it so well.

For obvious reasons, your life changed drastically after your vision got worse, the world around you lost its colors and beauty every day. Your world became just silhouettes moving around, almost colorless and blurred. But, you were aware of some things, just by looking at the silhouettes, you know how to differentiate an animal from a human, or if someone uses hair accessories. You weren't completely blind, but you were blind enough to be considered blind and have difficulties.

Uraume was the first to suspect, they were going to your room to hand over your newly cleaned kimonos. Uraume pushed the door open with an elbow. It was at the same time that you were combing your hair, your room lacked a little light, the candles had run out at the moment. You placed the comb where you thought the table was, but the comb ended up falling. You crouched down, trying to look for the lost comb on the floor, as the comb was clearly next to you. But they did not talked, nor did they mention this to the king.

Sukuna became suspicious when you two were at the table. In an attempt to get the chopsticks, you put your hand in a completely far place. It wasn't your fault, the chopsticks were the same color as the table! You tried again, nervous and hoping your husband wasn't looking at you. You went wrong again, you swallowed hard. You only realized where the chopsticks were when you turned your head drastically.

"…" Sukuna obviously noticed this. So the dots connected in his cruel head: Didn't she see where they were? Maybe… it makes sense, this woman is "strict" with how Uraume serves her food, she asks that the rice be placed in a light-colored bowl, if possible, in a light yellow bowl… and things like that...

"Wife. Are you blind?" Sukuna asked, without further ado. You felt your heart lock… could it be now? The truth?

"Sukuna…I, yes I am blind, please my king forgive me for keeping it a secret!" You soon explained yourself, standing up and crouching in respect. You thought he was angry, but he was surprised. He realized that you were not a silly woman, you are a very smart woman, no one suspected that you were blind… not even the king!

And that's how your life changed, Sukuna didn't even ask and you already explained your condition. You explained that you weren't completely blind, but you made her life difficult. Sukuna, like a husband who doesn't say 'I love you' but would burn the world for you, did everything he could to help you, Uraume helped you more.

You were an artist too, you painted several pictures. First, Sukuna thought they were cute and that was it. However, upon discovering your lack of vision, he began to see your paintings differently… it was you representing the world… through your eyes, how you imagine the colors, from the memory of when you could still see the colors…

Sukuna was stuck, looking at his painting where you had made him. He remembers saying in the past how different their brands were, but now he understands. "I'm more surprised, woman, you actually almost managed to draw my marks… Did you do what you imagined they would look like?" Sukuna asked, you next to him nodded.

"I could see the spots on your wrist, they stand out against your skin. The ones on your face are harder to see…" you explained. Sukuna took you in his arms, you were confused because you didn't expect this all of a sudden. "Sukuna?"

"Um, give me your finger." He took her index finger. Her heart warmed as she felt him trace his marks with his finger. You got closer to his face, getting a better look.

"Wait… you have a mini eye underneath? I thought you only had 3 eyes…" Sukuna smiles.

"It's small." Sukuna replied, getting her down from his arm.

"Oh, Kuna! I need to paint you again!" She said, looking at him with a cute smile. Sukuna saw her pull out a painting, and sit at her desk. Sukuna sat right next to her, very close to her. "Kuna… this tone looks strange, does this pink look like your hair?"

"Yes? I don't understand anything about this color thing… I don't care." You sighed, but started painting. You approached him very closely, to see his features up close. He gives you a peck, "You're so close." He complained, you laughed.

He pulled you onto his lap, so it was easier for you to see him. He felt her soft hand contouring his sharp features. Analyzing, Sukuna held her closer. It was such a rare moment, so warm…

But Sukuna closed his eyes in pain when she accidentally stuck her finger in his eyes. "Stupid, woman. Do you want to make me like you, you bastard?"

"I didn't think it was funny Sukuna, it was by accident…"

"Whatever, get it over with. My ass is going to hurt if I sit here for so long."

"HUSH!"

I have a version of this same theme with a longer story and angsty in the middle… do you want me to post it?

long story version

#ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jjk x reader #true form sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen

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godsfavdarling · 1 month

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How could you? (pt.2)

my masterlist, part 1

pairing: Spencer Reid x gn!reader (established relationship)

words: 1,8k

summary: You're still hurt but you don't think you can let Spencer and your love for him go so easily.

warnings: angst, hurt, spoilers for season 15!

a/n: i'm so happy you guys liked the first part!!! i was asked to write part 2 and I was so flattered! thank you for all the love <3

The following days felt like walking through a dense fog, each step heavy with the weight of pain. You couldn't shake the image of JJ cupping his cheeks, and pressing her lips against his. It was a scene etched into your mind, haunting you like a relentless specter.

His lips. Lips that had whispered sweet nothings to you, that had traced patterns of love and affection on your skin. Lips that had promised forever in each kiss, now tainted by another's touch.

You couldn't comprehend how it had come to this.

How could he allow someone else to invade the sacred space you had built together?

His lips for years had only ever kissed and worshiped yours. But now, everything felt ruined, tarnished by the image of her lips on his.

The questions swirled in your mind, each one more agonizing than the last.

How could he betray you like this? Did he ever truly love you, or was it all just a lie?

The memory of Spencer's confession played over and over in your mind like a broken record, each word etched into your heart with painful clarity.

You knew about his past with JJ, how he had loved her long ago, only to have his feelings unreciprocated. He had moved on from that chapter of his life, leaving behind the pain and heartache to build a future with you.

But seeing them together, so close, her hands on his beautiful face, her lips on his, it was clear that his feelings had not been one-sided.

He had bared his soul to you, laying bare the events of that hostage situation, recounting every detail with a raw honesty that left you reeling.

You remembered how he sat close to you with his hand on your lap as you cleaned his wound. Tears in your eyes as you played with his fingers and soaked in saline solution gauze. Staring at his hand you listened to every word, as he reassured you of his unwavering love. He had made it abundantly clear that his heart belonged to you and you alone.

But did it?

The doubts crept in like tendrils of darkness, twisting and coiling around your heart with suffocating intensity.

Had he truly moved on from his past with JJ? Or was it merely a facade, a carefully constructed illusion meant to shield you from the painful truth?

The thought gnawed at you, clawing its way through the layers of your defenses until it settled like a lead weight in the pit of your stomach.

What if he still harbored feelings for her, buried deep beneath the surface of his professed love for you? What if JJ's sudden confession had reignited the flames of their past, offering him a chance to finally grasp the love he had always longed for?

The thought was like a dagger to your heart.

You wanted to believe in Spencer's love, to cling to the hope that his heart truly belonged to you and you alone.

But what if it didn’t?

As you grappled with the pain and confusion, a part of you yearned for answers, while another recoiled from the truth you might uncover. But one thing was certain: the image of her lips on his would haunt you for a long time to come.

Could you ever forgive Spencer for what he'd done? And more importantly, did you even want to?

You couldn't help but wish for a sign of remorse from JJ. Spencer had reached out, extending an olive branch of love and reconciliation, despite the weight of his own guilt and regret. He had shown humility, acknowledging his mistakes and expressing his desire to make things right.

But JJ remained silent, her absence a stark contrast to Spencer's efforts to mend the fractured pieces of your relationship. Perhaps she was too embarrassed to reach out, too ashamed to face the consequences of her actions.

How could she have the audacity to remain silent, to act as though nothing had happened?

It felt like a slap in the face, a cruel twist of fate that only served to deepen the wound.

The silence between you and Spencer was deafening, each moment stretching into eternity as Spencer waited for you to reach out. He knew he had hurt you, betrayed your trust in the worst possible way, and the guilt gnawed at him like a relentless beast.

He wanted to explain, to make you understand that it wasn't what it seemed. But every time he reached for his phone to call you a wave of uncertainty crashed over him, freezing his fingers before they could dial your number.

Spencer watched helplessly as you withdrew into yourself, your walls rising higher with each passing day. It tore him apart to see you in pain, knowing that he was the cause of it all.

He longed to reach out to you, to hold you close and beg for your forgiveness. But he knew that he had to give you space, to let you come to terms with what had happened in your own time.

As the days turned into weeks, Spencer found himself consumed by a sense of desperation. He would do anything to make things right, to earn back your trust and rebuild what you had lost.

But deep down, he feared that it might already be too late.

Spencer's heart leaped with a sudden surge of hope as he saw your name flashing on his phone screen. Without hesitation, he snatched up the device, his fingers trembling as he answered the call.

The sound of your voice washed over him like a soothing balm, filling him with a sense of relief he hadn't realized he was craving. Your words, a simple request to meet and talk, sparked a glimmer of optimism within him, a flicker of hope that perhaps all was not lost.

But even as excitement bubbled up inside him, a familiar pang of doubt niggled at the edges of his consciousness.

What if this meeting was merely a prelude to the inevitable, a final farewell before you walked away for good?

He pushed aside the nagging voice of uncertainty, choosing instead to focus on the warmth and sincerity in your tone. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to make things right, to lay bare his soul and beg for your forgiveness.

With newfound determination, Spencer agreed to the meeting, his heart pounding. He knew the road ahead would be difficult, but for the first time in days, he allowed himself to hope that perhaps, against all odds, you were willing to give him another chance.

The air was heavy with unspoken tension.

As you walked in, your eyes were immediately drawn to the spot where JJ and Spencer had kissed. Despite your best efforts, you couldn't look away.

You settled into the silence, your gaze drifting constantly to the spot where they stood. Where they stood when they kissed. This was the spot you saw them in as you walked through the door, the image of Spencer and JJ still burned into your mind's eye. Her lips on his.

Spencer noticed the direction of your stare, the weight of your gaze heavy upon him like a silent accusation.

With a gentle touch, he reached out and took your hand in his own, the warmth of his touch a soothing balm against the ache in your heart. Surprisingly, you didn't pull away. Allowing him to touch you, to bridge the divide that had grown between you, sent a rush of warmth through his veins, making his heart flutter with a glimmer of hope.

In that simple gesture, there was a silent reassurance that you were still willing to give your love a chance.

"Hey," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with a vulnerability that mirrored your own. "I know things are... complicated right now. But I want you to know that I’ll do whatever it takes to make things right."

The sincerity in his words washed over you like a wave, eroding the walls of doubt.

Despite the pain and betrayal, a flicker of hope ignited within you, a tiny spark of belief that perhaps, against all odds, you could find a way forward together. You loved him too much to let go without a fight.

When you looked into Spencer's eyes that night, the night of the kiss, even then you saw not just the hurt and the regret, but also the love. Just as you do now.

Your mind was racing, your heart heavy with pain, but even then, you knew deep down that this couldn't be how your love story ended. It wasn't over yet. There were still chapters left to be written. And you still believed.

With a steadying breath, you squeezed Spencer's hand, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the midst of the swirling chaos of your emotions. "I want us to be okay," you confessed, your voice trembling with a mixture of vulnerability and determination. "I believe you. I just... I don't know what to do, Spencer."

Spencer's gaze softened with understanding, his thumb tracing soothing circles on the back of your hand. "I know," he murmured softly.

You could see the turmoil in his eyes, the fear of losing you etched into every line of his face. And as much as you wanted to hold onto your pain and anger, you couldn't deny the love that still burned bright within you.

"But... I love you. Only you. And I don't want this to be over. If you don't want this anymore... I'll understand. Well, I don't, but I'll try to. But I don't want to. I love you too much. I want us to be okay too. And I'll do anything..." Spencer's voice cracked as tears welled up in his eyes.

Without a word, you wrapped your arms around Spencer tightly, pulling him close in a silent embrace. You could feel the tension melting away with each passing moment, replaced by a sense of warmth and security that only he could provide.

"I'm sorry," he choked out between sobs, his voice heavy with regret. "I'm so sorry, I never meant to hurt you."

You said nothing, letting your actions speak louder than words. Gently, you brushed away the tears on his cheek.

You couldn't walk away, not when his love still held you captive, not when you knew deep down that you couldn't bear to be apart from him.

You couldn't walk away. His love had woven itself into the very fabric of your being.

As much as your mind raced with questions and uncertainties, a quiet voice within you whispered that you believed him. You believed in the sincerity of his words, in the depth of his love, and in the possibility of you two being okay.

With every fiber of your being, you clung to that belief.

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libertyybellls · 4 months

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hi! I love your writing and I was wondering if you could do something with finnick where reader was hijacked like peeta, and is violent to finnick because the hallucinations brought back memories of him killing tributes that she was friends with in the 75th hg (like the careers?) No worries if you don't feel like writing it! if you could have a slightly fluffy ending that would be great, but you decide!

WHERE NO ONE CAN REACH YOU !

pairing; finnick odair x f!reader

summary; as per req :)

contains; violence, brainwashing, trauma, descriptions of death, established relationship, canon hunger games violence.

you knew where you were, and you knew you did not want to be in district 13 strapped down to a hospital bed- nurses eyeing you as if you were the real threat here. you just wanted to be left alone, you wanted to stop flinching and thrashing at every touch of the doctors.

your thoughts were interrupted by finnick. rushing towards you. the minute his hands were on your shoulders pulling you into him- enthralled with his scent, the sea of worry in his eyes, you felt sick.

something had switched in your brain- why was he here? did the doctors know it would be unsafe to leave him alone with you?

images flashed in your mind, your own friends falling to their demise by his bloody hands, you saw every last bit of life leave their eyes. did that please him? did it rejuvenate him to know he was killing for nothing?

was he going to kill you now too?

"get off of me! get away from me!" you scream lashing out of his grip.

you IV rips out of your arm in the process. hit after hit to his body as he cries out your name, desperately trying to retrieve you back into his arms. you were home to him, what was he to you now?

"you monster! look at what you've done! you killed all of them!"

finnick turned his own pain away, he knew he was a monster, he'd never be able to stop the regret flowing in his veins- he would lose himself to it- it only hurt to hear from you. your words, your anger, pain and desperation only made it all the more real to him. but he only wanted you back in his arms, was it too much to ask?

"angel, please?" his voice is desperate now, almost a reflection of your own. please lay in my arms, please let me hold you, please forgive me- for I know what keeps me up at night pains you too.

you didn't fight when his hand met your shoulder this time, you only sobbed. your cries ripped through his heart. he sat behind you and pulled you into him.

you wailed incoherently now, I cant's and I don't know's. but he understood, of course he could. finnick let his hands move the hair out of your face, away from the tears streaming down your face- he could always take care of you, even if he couldn't fix the war tearing apart your brain, the capitols grip on you, what they took control of- there would always be finnick, trying to fix you.

this is a blurb babe im so so sorry its short ;(((

#finnick fanfic #finnick odair #finnick odair fluff #finnick odair smut #finnick imagine #finnick odair x reader #finnick fluff #finnick oneshot #finnick smut #finnick angst

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rnelodyy · 1 year

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The Owl House And Restorative Justice

At the end of Season 1 of The Owl House, it is revealed that Lilith, the main overarching antagonist of that season, was the one to curse her sister Eda, one of the protagonists, to win a tournament when they were teenagers. This information causes Eda to fly into a screaming rage and attack Lilith, and understandably so.

Eda’s curse is essentially a chronic illness, one that, in Eda’s own words, has ruined her life, being the reason she’s considered a social outcast and why, before meeting King and Luz, she hadn’t gotten close to anyone in years. In season 2, it’s revealed that the curse is why she pushed away her partner Raine to the point that they broke it off with her, and that during a particularly bad flareup, she accidentally maimed her own father, leaving him half blind and with permanent nerve damage to his hands, making him unable to continue working as a Palisman carver. The curse has ruled Eda’s life for decades now, so to Eda, this is the ultimate betrayal.

In the first episode of Season 2, Lilith has defected from the Emperor’s Coven, split the curse between Eda and herself to mitigate the symptoms for her sister, and has moved in with Eda at the Owl House. While Lilith herself still feels guilty and feels she has to make it up to Eda, everyone else, Eda included, has seemingly either forgiven her or chosen to look past it. Eda even makes fun of her for feeling bad about cursing her, and Lilith’s guilt is seemingly absent for the rest of the series.

The response to this was… Less than stellar, shall we say. A lot of people were angry, saying Lilith got away with her crimes without even a slap on the wrist, and that Eda’s forgiveness of her was far too sudden.

This isn’t the first time we’ve seen this kind of critique. Amity spent years bullying Willow after her parents forced her to break off their friendship, and when she began trying to mend that relationship, the response from fans was that Willow should have been a lot more angry at Amity, and that they went back to being besties far too soon. I’ve even seen this criticism leveled at Hunter for the things he did while working for Belos, at Vee for impersonating Luz for months to trick her mother, and at Luz for hiding the fact that she helped Philip find the Collector from her friends. And it does seem strange for the show to keep tripping on this same point again and again.

Except, it’s not really. Because I think that, when viewing this show from a different angle, those supposed flaws are actually symptoms of something very important to understand – The Owl House operates on a system of crime and punishment that is very different from our world’s.

More specifically, our world mostly utilizes retributive justice. The world of The Owl House utilizes restorative justice.

So first, what do those terms mean? Broadly, they’re two different forms of handling interpersonal disputes, or dealing with crime.

Retributive justice is the one our current justice system uses, where the focus is primarily on punishing the perpetrator. Retributive justice can mean detention, suspension, expulsion, jail time, monetary fines, some kinds of community service, exile, or in more severe cases, corporal punishment or the death penalty. It’s the lens most people view the world through, where if someone hurts you, hurting them back is the correct response.

Restorative justice is a very different approach, where you instead focus on helping the victim recover from what happened, and rehabilitating the perpetrator to prevent this from happening again. Restorative justice can look like verbal or written apologies, monetary compensation for costs and trauma, therapy for both victim and perpetrator, education for the perpetrator, mediation between victim and perpetrator, a restraining order, etc.

When viewed through a retributive lens, The Owl House lets its characters get away with a lot of shit. Lilith cursing Eda, Hunter rounding up Palismen knowing they’ll be killed, Amity tormenting Willow for years, it’s all stuff that, in a retributive environment, they should be punished for, and they’re just not. Eda is only genuinely angry at Lilith for two scenes, Amity and Willow fix their relationship very quickly once Amity starts making amends, and Hunter isn’t punished at all.

However, I believe the story of The Owl House is best viewed not through a retributive lens, but through a restorative lens.

Let’s look at the Lilith-example again. Lilith’s offense was cursing Eda, which she did because she wanted to win a spot in the Emperor’s Coven. Knowing Eda was better than her, she cast a curse on her, thinking it would only last for a day. But when the time came, Eda forfeited the match, soon after which she transformed into the Owl Beast and was pelted with rocks until she ran. The curse turned out to be very permanent, and Lilith spent the next 20 years trying to fix her mistake by working for Belos to try to capture Eda, since he promised to heal her curse.

However, when she finally succeeded, Belos went back on his promise. Instead of healing Eda, he ordered her to be publicly executed. When Lilith protested, Belos essentially told her to shut up, that it was the Titan’s will, and left her there.

So, having realized her method of fixing her mistake has gone real bad, Lilith sneaks down to the Conformatorium to free Eda herself, but arrives too late and finds Luz instead. After a brief fight they end up teaming up, and Lilith leads Luz to the elevator, but they are captured by Belos and Lilith is thrown into the cage with Eda. There, she restores Eda’s partially petrified body, and after fleeing with her, Luz and King, uses a spell to split Eda’s curse evenly between their two bodies.

From a restorative justice point of view, Lilith has done pretty much everything she reasonably could do to fix things. She’s denounced the Emperor’s Coven, returned Owlbert to Luz, helped Luz find the elevator to the execution platform, saved Eda from petrification, apologized to Eda, and while there’s no way for her to cure Eda’s curse entirely, she took on half of the curse at great expense to her own health, in order to ease Eda’s symptoms.

Eda isn’t angry anymore because in her eyes, Lilith has already fixed things with her. Punishing her more at this point is pointless. What more could Lilith do, really? What other lessons could she learn? The only thing that punishment would bring at this point would be more suffering.

Let’s look at another example: Amity and Willow.

Amity’s offense was breaking off her friendship with Willow because she was a late-bloomer, bullying her for years, and allowing her friends to do so too. Willow is left with horrible self-esteem issues because of this, and combined with her failing grades, turned her into a horribly shy and withdrawn wallflower (no pun intended). After she’s moved to the plant track she starts actually getting better, but Amity and Boscha especially continue to torment her. While Amity’s bullying of Willow does peter out over time, Willow is clearly still extremely resentful of her. In an attempt to make Willow forget their friendship, Amity accidentally sets most of Willow’s memories on fire, leaving her confused, amnesiac, and unable to grasp basic concepts like that chairs are for sitting in.

Luz pushed Amity into fixing Willow’s brain by going into her mind together and piecing her memories back together. There, the Inner Willow revealed what happened to Luz and the audience.

At this point, Amity shows her that her parents were actually the ones who forced her to end the friendship because they didn’t think Willow was a suitably powerful or influential friend, threatening to make sure Willow would never get accepted into Hexside if Amity didn’t force her to leave. Amity then apologizes to Willow for going along with it, and for the bullying, and vows to make sure her friends never mess with Willow again.

Willow accepts her apology, but also makes it clear that, while it’s a start, she’s not yet ready to accept Amity in her life again. Restorative justice has not been fully attained, because to Willow, Amity hasn’t fixed everything – Boscha and her squad are still bullying her, and still consider Amity one of them. This changes two episodes later, when Amity tells Boscha to grow the fuck up when she starts bullying Willow again, and joins her and Luz’s Grudgby team despite her personal issues to get Boscha to back off. Willow doesn’t make a grand gesture of forgiveness in this episode, but it is after this point where the two become comfortable around eachother again.

Did Willow forgive Amity too quickly for years of trauma? Maybe. If she had chosen to continue keeping Amity at a distance I certainly wouldn’t have blamed her. But in the end, Amity fixed the mess she caused as best she could, and has proven herself to want to be a better person, to want to be Willow’s friend again. She worked hard to prove herself to be a person worth trusting, and Willow decided to give that trust a chance again.

And while they did become friends again, that friendship was clearly still affected by what happened, which led to bumps that the two of them had to work through. Like in Labyrinth Runners, where Amity’s overprotectiveness over Willow makes Willow feel like Amity thinks she’s incompetent, and still only sees her as the helpless person she used to be.

Willow continuing to be mad at Amity and punishing her for what she did wouldn’t be an unreasonable reaction, but it wouldn’t have fixed anything. It would certainly have an impact on Amity, seeing her former best friend rejecting her attempts to make up for what she did, but the hurt on both sides would have continued festering, because deep down, Willow missed Amity too.

In Hunter’s case, there’s the question of whether he can even be held responsible for his actions. The Palisman-kidnapping in specific was explicitly done under duress – if he failed he would face verbal and physical abuse, and be threatened with his nightmare scenario: getting thrown out of the Emperor’s Coven.

And that’s not an empty threat either. Hunter has no magic, and Belos has drilled it into him that witches without magic have no future. Without the Emperor’s Coven, his only future prospects would be starving to death on the streets or wasting away in prison. Either way, Hunter would be alone, without family or friends, without a job or job prospects, without anyone to turn to for help. Any child would be terrified of that. Hunter wasn’t always acting on direct orders – in fact he defied direct orders to stay in his room in Eclipse Lake to go look for Titan’s Blood, and then again in Hollow Mind to arrest the rebels. But he made those choices based on the idea that Belos wouldn’t want him if he was a failure, and that he needed a chance to prove that he could still be useful.

And contrary to popular belief, Hunter does know right from wrong. He has a very strong moral compass, he’s just been forced to ignore it in favor of doing whatever the Emperor wants. To shut up that little voice telling him he’s doing the wrong thing, he uses what’s called a thought-terminating cliche, a statement that feels so fundamentally true that the argument need not continue. In Hunter’s case, that statement is “It’s for the greater good.” Sure, kidnapping his new friends and abducting Palismen to feed to the Emperor and threatening someone who’s been nothing but kind to him to take the portal key from her girlfriend and justifying terrorism makes his stomach feel like he swallowed a cactus and saying it out loud makes him sound like a horrible person – but it’s for the greater good. He’s doing it to serve Belos, and Belos knows what’s best.

So by the time Hunter is out of active danger and able to rest and recover from what happened to him… what would further punishment accomplish? He already knows that he did fucked up shit while working for the EC, and he’s proven time and time again that while he’s not fighting for Belos’s approval, he’s actually a genuinely kind-hearted kid. Punishing him now would likely cause him to react very poorly, because he’s been at the wrong end of that stick so often that he’s developed severe PTSD because of it.

And if you think restorative justice is still in order – Hunter is currently hyperfixated on making sure Belos can never hurt anyone again, and for the long term, he has expressed that he wants to become a Palisman carver when he grows up. While it won’t bring back the Palismen that were killed, it will help the current Palisman population recover and reintroduce Palismen to witches who may have had to give up theirs.

When viewed through this lens, the writing of The Owl House starts to make more sense. As a show, it is extremely forgiving towards its characters – they’re still held accountable for their actions, but as long as they’re willing to grow and learn and fix the damage they caused, they are very quickly forgiven.

However, I do understand why these writing choices can be… controversial, so to say. Because it doesn’t feel very satisfying, does it? When someone hurts you on purpose, your first impulse would be to try to hurt them back, that’s just how people work.

That’s the hardest thing to come to terms with when you become an advocate for prison abolition for example – you’re not just arguing for freeing a guy who got 5 years because a cop found weed in his pockets, you’re arguing for the release, and most importantly, the humanity of some of the most vile, disgusting people this planet has ever produced. Even now, when someone commits a truly awful crime and gets sent to prison for life, my first thought is “Good, I hope they rot in there.” But that’s not justice. That’s just revenge. And revenge is not something we as a society should want to build our justice system on.

It’s not satisfying to see Lilith go from using Luz as a human shield in her fight against Eda to sleeping on the couch in Eda’s house within 2 episodes. It’s not satisfying to see Willow let Amity back into her life when Amity has hurt her so badly before, or to see Hunter become romantically involved with Willow after he literally abducted her the first time they met. But that satisfaction isn’t really the point. Revenge is satisfying in the moment, but an eye for an eye makes the whole world blind, and if someone shows a genuine willingness to change, it’s often better to give them a chance to.

However, my final point is about what happens when this approach fails. Because not everyone is willing to change. Some people, when faced with the consequences of their actions, decide to dig their heels in and refuse to admit fault, or blame the victim(s), or use those same thought-terminating cliches that Hunter used to justify their actions, “I was just following orders” being a big one.

And thus, we come to Belos.

If Belos showed a willingness to change, a genuine one, not an attempt at manipulation, should he be given the chance to? That vengeful part of me is VERY empathetically saying no. But logically, reasonably, he should be given that chance, if only because he’s a human being and no human being deserves to be mistreated. That doesn’t mean his victims are obligated to forgive him or be around him again, in fact I think that, for the sake of Hunter’s mental health, Belos should stay as far away from him as humanly possible. But he should be given the chance to start over, to truly better himself and do something good with the rest of his life.

But Belos isn’t willing to change.

Belos is a product of a bad environment and grew up with a cult-like mentality and hatred for witches that he had to adopt for his own safety. It’s hard to break out of that mentality, but not impossible. Case in point: Caleb. The tragedy of Belos’s character to me is that he had so many chances to change, so many people to help him make that leap, but all of the people who offered him that help ended up dead by his hands because he couldn’t handle the idea that he may have been wrong.

At this point, Belos is stuck. Changing would mean not only giving up on his life’s work, but acknowledging to himself that everything he’s done, mutilating his body, killing his brother, slaughtering thousands and installing himself as God-Emperor of a population he despises more than anything in order to facilitate a genocide, was completely pointless.

He can’t admit that to himself. Especially the thing about Caleb’s death. He’s sunk-cost-fallacied himself so far into a corner that all he can really do when faced with opposing viewpoints is dig his heels in even deeper and lash out in a rage at anyone who challenges him. Even now, when his body is literally falling apart at the seams, he’s still trying to commit witch-genocide, because it’s all he has.

Restorative justice doesn’t work in this case, because the perpetrator needs to be receptive to it. Logically you would assume the show would default to retributive justice, and characters like Willow and Camila do take a very vengeful glee in imagining themselves beating the snot out of Belos. But right now, the primary motivation of the Hexsquad and Hunter in particular when it comes to Belos is to end the threat he poses. As long as Belos is alive and free, he will continue to hurt and kill people, and if he can’t be talked down, he needs to be either contained or killed to prevent him from causing more harm.

The Owl House provides, in my opinion, a very nuanced take on restorative justice. It shows how it works in action, how different situations impact what it looks like, and what happens when it’s simply not an option. It’s not the most satisfying story to tell your audience, because when someone hurts our babies we want them to suffer, no matter how sorry they say they are. But in this case, I think that sacrificing that bit of audience comfort is worth it to tell the story like this.

#the owl house #the owl house meta #toh meta #toh lilith #toh amity #toh hunter #toh belos

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dreaminginpastels · 4 months

Note

Wow you’re writing is great! If you’re not busy, would you do a Druig request where he’s in love with his fellow Eternal who’s generally neutral in family fights but one Druig manages to bother her enough that he feels guilty and asks for forgiveness because he can handle everyone else being mad at him but not her? Thank you in advance!

wounding me softly

pairing: druig x fem!eternal!reader

summary: in which druig is increasingly distracted in battle and reader has had enough.

warnings: reader says some slightly not very nice things to druig, sliiiightest angst, brief intimacy

reader pronouns: she/her (by request)

word count: 2.1k

*✧ eternals masterlist | main masterlist | ask ✧*

Druig was getting on your last nerve. Literally.

Arishem had gifted you the ability to heal others, but what you hadn’t told the rest of the Eternals was that this “ability” came with a catch - each time, you had to absorb the injury in order to heal it. Early on in your inception, you’d decided it was some punishment, for what you had no clue, but as you became an integral part of the Eternals and learned from each of them, you’d come to see it as your own private gift - a way to develop untapped empathy and care for others. It made you the beautiful person you were.

Right now, however, Druig was testing your patience. The two of you had spent much time together during the early part of your stay in Babylon, and had grown close enough that Druig had started showboating in battles, leading the two of you to keep a tally of Deviants slain and owing each other various snacks after battle depending on who won. You were happy for the first time in a long, long time. You had even let yourself wonder if there might be more on the horizon between you. Over the last week, however, something had changed. Druig was quieter, withdrawn. You’d find him lost in his thoughts, and, most troublesome was the fact that he seemed to have lost his focus in battle. It was taking its toll.

It had started with slight delays, Druig got where he needed to be but always just a tad too late. At first, you were concerned, checking in on him even though he’d just brush you off. But then you’d begun to get frustrated with the brooding eternal. The battles were becoming more frequent, and as the demand on your abilities grew, so too it seemed did Druig’s wandering mind.

…

Drained and exhausted, you slumped against a wall as Ikaris blasted a Deviant ahead of you on your route to a wounded Kingo.

“Kingo, again?” you sighed as your hands pressed on his abdomen. You felt the deep gash slowly and agonisingly transferring to your own side.

He winced, “It’s not my fault, y/n, I swear-”

“They’re just targeting the weakest link.” Ikaris stated, matter-of-factly.

Kingo scoffed. “Okay, rude.”

Ikaris smirked before responding to Sersi’s summon.

Kingo turned to you, “But seriously, y/n, if Druig showed up every once and a while, maybe these damn Deviants would go down easier.”

You groaned in frustration at the same moment that Kingo sighed in relief. The injury had finished absorbing, but you were severely lightheaded and could barely move. Druig was going to get more than an earful when you got back.

“You’re an angel, y/n.” Kingo announced as he brushed your hair out of your face. “Seriously, I appreciate you so much.”

You grimaced, trying to hide the immense pain you were in. “T-thanks Kingo. Be careful out there, okay?”

He nodded before saluting you. “I won’t let you down, boss.”

…

“Rock, paper, scissors for the last twinkie?”

Druig brushed up against your shoulder playfully in the common space of the Domo, earning him a glare from you, and a chuckle out of Kingo.

“Woah,” Druig began, gesturing to your glare with his twinkie in hand, “Careful with that thing, you could seriously hurt someone!”

You scoffed and walked away, feeling Druig’s confused gaze following your every step. As you walked into your room, you could hear his voice echoing through the walls of the Domo. “Was it something I said?”

“You, my friend, are royally screwed.” Kingo replied, stifling a chuckle.

…

A week had passed since Kingo’s major injury, and you hadn’t spoken a single word to Druig. You knew that the silent treatment was probably a bit immature for an eternal being, but frankly, you couldn’t care less. Being unfocused in battle was one thing, but vanishing when your family needs you the most? That you couldn’t condone.

You knew he’d have an excuse, and part of you was desperate to hear it. You missed him. Of course you did. Your love for him only made your resentment more torturous.

Carefully positioning your still-recovering body against the wall in the meeting room, you watched as the other Eternals filed in with bated breath, wondering how much longer you could keep your secret.

…

Druig’s heart rate spiked as Ajak concluded their meeting, the blood coursing through his veins as he prepared for what he was about to do. He hated confrontation as much as the next person, although the next person was Ikaris...

“Alright, if no one has anything further they wish to present, you’re all dismissed.”

“Actually, Ajak,” Druig began, taking in the eye-rolls from his fellow Eternals as his voice filled the room. “I have something I’d like to discuss.”

Ajak’s patient, loving eyes wandered his face like a warning. “Yes, Druig?”

“Y/n’s been giving me the silent treatment lately, and I’d like to get to the bottom of it.”

“Oh here we go…” muttered Kingo as his eyes met Sprite’s, drawn to the impending drama like a car crash he couldn't tear his eyes from.

“It pains me to bring it up," Druig continued, glaring briefly at Kingo, "but seeing as the Deviants are getting more frequent, I figure we need to gel as a unit, and I don’t feel that we’re doing that.”

“HA,” A voice stirred from the shadowed corner of the meeting room. “You can talk.”

As you emerged from the shadows into the light of the meeting space, Druig took in your appearance - your heavy breathing, the dark bags under your bloodshot eyes, how pale you were. He instinctively moved towards you, resting a featherlight hand on your shoulder. His heart shattered as you winced and pulled away from his usually welcome touch.

“Y/n, you look like crap! What the hell happened?” Then, softly in your ear, “Are you okay?”

Druig felt you tremble the second before you shoved him away from you. “Of course I do! While you’ve been off doing Arishem knows what, we’ve been protecting the humans, and each other, from Deviants. Who, as you so kindly reminded us, are getting more dangerous and more frequent. This is the time that we can’t afford slip-ups, and you’re off with the fairies!”

Druig’s head fell in shame. You hated conflict, least of all with him, and he had driven you to this. He knew it was entirely his fault - he had been distracted lately, and you deserved to know why. “Y/n, I-”

“You’re careless! And you don’t think about anyone but yourself. We can’t afford that, Druig. We’re a team. A family. Act like it.”

He shrunk into himself, every trace of his usual swagger and confidence shattered like the fragile heart he held within. You were right. He had done this to you, left you exhausted and pained - a shell of yourself. The one person he swore he’d never hurt. He mustered the only words he could, hoping they were at least a bandage over your weak frame. At least enough until he could hold you again. “I’m sorry.”

With a deep sigh, he watched as you limped out of the room - step by pained step. Druig looked at the faces of the other Eternals, taking in their disappointment with panicked eyes before rushing out of the room to follow you.

…

“Y/n, wait!”

You groaned as he approached. Every noise you made splintered Druig’s heart a little more. He needed to make this right. Now.

“What, you couldn’t even let me have a badass exit? You’re unbelievable.” You mustered a chuckle to lighten the mood, but Druig saw how it pained you. How you shuddered with each breath.

“Oh my darlin’, you’re not okay.”

You raised an eyebrow, “Obviously, Druig. But great to know you weren’t even listening to my speech-”

“No, I can see it - something’s really wrong.” He lifted an arm above yours and studied your eyes carefully for permission before gently lifting your arm over his shoulder. “Let’s get you to lay down, we can talk when you’re comfortable.”

You winced as Druig lifted your arm, but hummed gratefully at his concern, lifting his hopes ever so slightly that things might just be okay. That he might win his best friend back, if he could muster the courage to be sincere enough.

Druig guided you to your room, and lay you gently on your bed, relishing in the comfortable sigh that emerged from your lips. You looked up at him, guarded but gentle. “Thank you, Druig.”

“You’re welcome, my darlin’.” He softened as he took you in. Then, he eyed your bed. “Mind if I lay with you?”

You hesitated for a moment before nodding your permission.

The silence that followed was full of unspoken emotions. Of feelings too large for the room, but deep enough to create a chasm between you. Until your voice echoed through the dark.

“What’s been going on with you lately? You’re a formidable warrior, unrelenting in battle. What could possibly have you distracted enough that you’d ignore Kingo’s calls for aid?”

Druig sighed. “Look, y/n. It seems we’ve both been keeping secrets. I’ll tell you mine if you promise to tell me yours?”

You eyed his outstretched pinky. “I cannot believe you’re making me pinky swear like our inception was yesterday.”

He laughed gently, “You know you love it.”

Rolling your eyes, you took his pinky in yours. “Fine, pinky swear.”

While your pinkies were still entwined, Druig quickly added, “but you go first!” before letting go.

“You are an actual child, Druig.”

“And you have a secret to tell me…” he replied in a sing-song voice.

The mood was instantly quashed by your serious tone. “I…”

Carefully, Druig took your hand in his. “You know you can tell me anything, my darlin’, I’m not going anywhere.”

You took a deep breath as you looked up at him, meeting his concerned irises.

“My abilities come with a cost. A condition. I can’t heal anyone without taking on their pain first.” Druig searched your eyes, horrified by your words and connecting the dots as you continued, “So, each time I’ve healed the others in battle recently…”

“...you’ve had to take on their injuries yourself and heal from them.” He finished for you.

You nodded sombrely. “Each, and every one. Individually.”

“Oh, my beautiful, beautiful, y/n. Why didn’t you tell us?” Druig looked down sheepishly at your entwined hands before quietly adding, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your voice was smaller than Druig had ever heard it as you replied, laced with the worries and insecurities you had held inside for an eternity. “I…I didn’t want to burden anyone, to let anyone down, and…I didn’t want you to look down on me for being the only Eternal whose powers are conditional. I was ashamed for a really long time.”

“I could never look down on you, y/n.” Druig began, turning to face you as he gently cupped your cheek and stared into your eyes. “I…I love you.”

Your eyes widened, “You…you do?”

He chuckled sadly, “Of course I do, you beautiful, oblivious fool. I’ve loved you forever.” Druig looked down bashfully before muttering under his breath. “That’s uh, that’s actually why I’ve been so distracted lately.”

“Wait, WHAT?”

“I know, I know, it’s so dumb. I just, I’ve been wanting to ask you if you would ever consider seeing me as more than just the brooding Eternal that boasts in battle for snacks because he’s too shy to ask the girl he loves to be his. I never thought you would ever see me as more and I…I would daydream about us in battle, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About us. Then, last week I saw these flowers - daisies, I- I know they’re your favourite - when this Deviant shoved me to the ground deep in the forest and I thought they would be perfect for some grand romantic gesture and then I heard about Kingo and- I’m so sorry y/n, I ruined everything, I hurt you, and-”

Druig’s panicked rambling faded into nothingness the second he felt your lips graze his. Gentle, shy at first, and then more deeply, with a passion that he felt at his core. He moaned against your lips, “Y-y/n, I-”

“That is somehow equally the sweetest and dumbest thing I’ve ever heard come out of that beautiful-” kiss, “-beautiful-” kiss, “-mouth.”

With a lovestruck gaze, and an empty mind, Druig’s eyes moved from your lips to your eyes as he took in the sight before him. “Y-you forgive me?”

You smiled then, cupping his face gently before placing another tentative kiss on his waiting lips. “I’ll do you one better. I love you, you sweet, idiotic Eternal. I’d be honoured to be yours.”

The two of you lay there in contented silence, falling asleep entwined in each other's embrace, knowing that everything would be okay. Knowing that you had each other. ...

a/n: hi lovely, i’m so very sorry for how long it’s taken me to get around to this request. it was my last druig request for AGES and I was just so nervous that if I wrote my last druig request I wouldn't get any more, so I held onto this baby like my life depended on it. that being said, I tweaked the request a little bit and I ADORED writing this. I hope that it’s everything that you wanted it to be, and please please feel free to request for baby boy again because I love writing for him SO MUCH 🤍

i’m so excited to get back into writing again, i finally finished my honours degree and I have so much creativity it’s not even funny - hoping to really smash out a bunch of your requests and create a writing schedule so i can keep it up because i miss and love writing for you all! thank you so much for your patience and support, you mean the world to me and i’m thankful for you every day

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readychilledwine · 8 days

Text

Lost Bonds pt 4

Summary - The last thing Tamlin planned to have happen was a bond snapping between him and Y/N Archeron. Now the big question becomes, is it too late to fix what has been broken?

Warnings - stereotypical happy ever after, grudges, cutting ties with family, rhysand being a decent brother in law, divorce, children, babies, pregnancy, reader's powers are yin to Nesta's yang, loosely edited (squint away any mistakes💕)

A/n - I know some people might be upset with the direction this ended in, but it felt... right? Forgive me.

✨️Tamlin Masterlist✨️

Lost Bonds: Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3

The Fire in Spring *can be read as a bonus Calanmai smut scene*

Rhysand was eerily calm as Azriel approached his office with Feyre. For the first time since her arrival here, Feyre would be in a seat he typically only forced the Inner Circle to instead of at his side.

Rhys sat and waited, hands laced together as they entered. “You are probably wondering why I asked you two to come in. Sit.” He motioned to the chairs across from him, not missing the look of confusion on Feyre's face. He waited for them to settle before saying the one thing he knew would begin the fight he prepared himself for, “I sent y/n to Spring yesterday. For Calanmai.”

Azriel's hands instantly twitched, and the fight began.

Three weeks had past with you and Tamlin and Tamlin and you. They were spent deep in the throes of passion. In need and want and want and need and every lingering emotion in between.

He had worshiped you. Truly and fully. He explored every inch of skin, tasting and kissing it every time like it was his last meal, like these were his last moments and he would rather spend them nowhere else than between the thighs he had become obsessed with.

It had taken 3 weeks for the bond to cool down enough for him to attempt to go back to his duties. He still ached for you and the completion that came with being yours, and you ached as well. You were like air to each other. Something so simple, yet so vital to life.

He sighed as he entered his office and sat in front of Feyre, Rhys, and Azriel. “You selfish-”

His hand went up. “If you're going to start throwing names around, shadowsinger, I have several for you. Be silent and allow me to discuss this with your lord and lady.”

Rhys was the first to speak after the blatant dismissal. “Where is she?”

“She should be resting. She's had a long morning already. She spent the morning with other Ladies of the Court discussing the upcoming Summer celebrations. I believe she is still socializing, though. I do not keep track of her constantly. She is a grown adult.”

Feyre scoffed and Tamlin raised his brow at her before she instantly looked down. “Is she happy?”

“Happier than I've been in a long time,” you entered the room, long hair falling in waves, an apricot colored dress swaying as you did. The colors of Spring made you even more radiant, your skin glowing, eyes dancing with light that had been missing for several years. “I assume you brought papers for me.”

You moved to Tamlin, standing behind him and holding a hand out for his. Feyre was shaking, refusing to look at you. “If you sign this, if you choose to stay, I never want to see you again.” The words should have cut like a knife, but all you could do was sigh.

“Would you like me to stay in Night then?”

Azriel glared towards Tamlin. “Its where you belong. Where your husband is. Where your family is.”

“Where your mate is,” you began to trail on for him. “Where you can have your cake and eat it too. Where your family has spent the past 4 years letting you make a fool out of me. Fond memories, yes.”

“Our marriage wasn't always unhappy, y/n.”

“No. But it became unhappy the second you had an affair. Sign the papers, Azriel.”

Rhysand stayed oddly silent, as did Tamlin, the two high lords were in a silent conversation regarding the scent only they seemed to be able to detect. You were not leaving Spring, not when you, albeit unknowingly, were carrying its salvation inside of you.

Tamlin pointed to the line that would grant you your freedom. Tapping it twice in a silent message to you to sign and stay at his side as he watched Azriel. He had no doubt the male planned on grabbing you, upset that he was losing his own claim to a made sister, upset that the Cauldron had paired him with another.

Tamlin knew his look. The look of a male who wanted everything with no compromise. He remembered being there. Being that male. He knew the pain that came with it, the anger. He watched you sign, signature so flawless and soft, curling the page that gave you freedom and you stepped back. Hiding that joy that was flooding him as you did.

“I won't stop fighting for you.”

You shook your head as you laid the ring on the desk and slid it to him. “You will. You will realize this was best for both of us in time. You will find happiness, peace, and what you are looking for.”

“I won't sign.”

Rhysand pinched his nose and then picked at his jacket, a nervous habit now instead of obsession. “Azriel, sign the papers.”

“I won't-”

“You will because I have tolerated every moment of this bull shit knowing it is against every law we have honored for thousands of years.” Tamlin was oddly calm, hand still in yours. “I tolerated it for her happiness.”

“She was happy with me.”

“Until 4 years ago, yes.”

You turned to Rhysand, eyes pleading. “Please.” Her brother in law nodded, taking her side and owning his error another time.

“Sign the papers, Azriel.” Feyre and Azriel seemed to freeze. It was a set command, one the shadowsinger would not be able to push. “Sign the papers.”

“I will never forgive you for this.”

Rhys shrugged. “I'll add it to the many times I was doing what was best for everyone else but made the bad guy. Sign the papers.”

Azriel stared at Tamlin as he signed the papers before taking the ring and standing. He left without saying goodbye, without looking back at you one last time. Without even so much as a sign of the love you two once shared.

“You will never see Nyx again.” Tamlin tugged the bond, sending you his love and support regardless of what you picked but silently begging you to stay.

Your throat tightened as you looked to Feyre, “Are you truly that selfish? Without Tamlin, you would not even have Nyx. You wouldn't have a mate.” She glared at you, chin head high as you continued, “you were never met to be Tamlin's, Feyre. Imagine a world where you would have just let me go, where I came here as the person who was supposed to.” She suddenly looked away, eyes squeezing shut as she did. “If that is the road you would like us to go down, consider it done. You are no longer my sister, no longer my other half, no longer part of me. If my happiness means this little to you, then we need to part ways.”

Feyre just nodded, standing and holding her hand out to Rhysand. Your brother in law shook his head, nodding for her to go. He sunk further into the chair he was in before looking to you and Tamlin. “Congratulations,” in was sincere, soft. Rhys grabbed your hand, kissing the palm. “You will always have a home in Velaris.”

10 years later

Tamlin sighed quietly next to you, bouncing your third child and daughter, Willow, on his lap as the other two sat. Oakland, your oldest son, was reading with his back leaned against your legs. Fleur, your middle daughter, was sitting by the glittering fish pond every court was circling.

High Lord's meetings were now quarterly. A way of holding each other all in check and accountable. Each one was more of a bitchfest than productive, but it had allowed relations between several courts to improve.

This one had been called due to Helion stepping down. With Beron gone, Autumn stable, and his mate and son finally at his side, the High Lord decided there was no better way to celebrate than relinquishing his powers to Lucien and enjoying the lost time he should have had with Andromeda.

Lucien looked to Tamlin, a little lost on the question Rhysand was asking before clearing his throat to answer, “I will not be enforcing rank and class if that's what you are asking. Fae are fae. Lower or higher does not matter to me. Laws will be enforced, tax will be enforced, and opportunities will be fair.” Rhys seemed content in that answer, looking at Feyre and Nyx before nodding.

You two knew you were next and Tamlin sighed as he handed Willow to you, much to her protest. “Spring is fully rebuilt and has implemented a version of Tarquin’s laws that work best for us,” the mentioned high lord smiled and raised his bubbling wine. “Our army is young, growing, but eager.”

He looked to you, “We would appreciate the spies being removed from our court, though. We are willing to answer any questions someone may have. We feel the use of spies in unnecessary. We have opened our boarders and home to anyone."

“The mortals,” Eris began slowly. “They are?”

“Part of our court as of two months ago,” you answered for Tamlin. “We are the only court they agreed to form a pact with. Jurian and Vassa will remain ruling over them as a better connection point.”

Eris hummed. Satisfied with the answer.

“Will they be asking to travel?” Kal watched his daughter, stopping her before her snow pale hand touched the pond with a soft no. “There are concerns over them coming to Winter. They were not made for such temperatures.”

Tamlin nodded, “We had hoped to discuss that with each court one on one. They are… beautiful, curious creatures. They want to travel the courts and experience different foods and lifestyles. Provisions will need to be made for that to happen, though.”

You couldn't help but smile, hearing what you used to be called beautiful by the most stunning male you had ever seen. His hand moved to rest on your thigh, squeezing softly as the next question came.

“The growth in Spring, the herbs, the medicinal plants, the food, flowers,” Thesan took a short pause as he and his mate communicated silently. “How did that happen?”

Tamlin squeezed your thigh again. “Nesta was blessed with the powers of death. Y/n was blessed with the powers of fertility and live. Her presence alone has brought light and growth back to Spring.”

“And children,” Kal murmured. You chuckled softly. You knew your every growing family was a source if jealousy from several other High Lords and Ladies.

“Yes, and children. The increase of faelings in Spring has been our biggest blessing. We are averaging 20-25 babes a year instead of the standard 3.”

You watched Rhys smile behind his hand as Feyre still refused to look your way. “And how many more do you two plan on having?” The question came from Cassian. He had taken to his nieces and nephew like they were second nature to him. He was their favorite uncle, and Nesta was fighting Elain hard for favorite Auntie.

Tamlin looked at you. “Perhaps we will be done after this new one arrives.” You shook your head quickly, lip pouting out. “I promised her 12.” Eris and Lucien both spit out their wine. Having grown up with many siblings, the two of them both looked shocked as Helion and Lady Autumn both smiled wide. “We will decide here in a month or two.”

Your hand absentmindedly moved to your very swollen stomach. This one was a boy. You felt it in your soul, and new Tamlin was secretly excited over the idea of another beautiful son.

The meeting came to a close as soon as Summer finished their updates. Tamlin helped you stand, moving his hand to your lower back as he walked you and your three toddlers out of the room. You could feel both of their eyes on you. A lingering cold Hazel gaze, a heartbroken blue one.

He tugged the bond softly before winnowing you home and immediately taking you to bed as the children's nannies all came to collect them for nap time.

“She looked regretful,” Tamlin unlocked your dress, kissing your shoulder softly. “She will approach soon.”

“It doesn't matter if she does.” The acceptance came so easily now. “We have each other, our family. We have this,” you tugged the bond. “Nothing will come between our happy ever after.” You held your pinky to his, and he wrapped his much larger one around it. “To us and our happy ever after then.”

“To us, petal.”

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Lost Bonds Taglist:

@impossibelle @fxckmiup @applerubyy @awkardnerd @sleepylunarwolf @macimads @esposadomd @stormhearty @starcrossedsan @justasillylittlegoofyguy @thisblogisaboutabook @ohemgeewhat @mybestfriendmademe @isa1b2h3 @b0xerdancer @forever-paramore28 @circe143 @ancientbeing10 @disgruntledturtleduck @fandomarchiveilyd

#acotar #acotar x reader #tamlin x reader #tamlin x archeron!reader #tamlin x yn #tamlin x y/n #tamlin x you #tamlin acotar

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ewanmitchellcrumbs · 7 months

Text

Irūdy (Gift)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: No plot to be found here, dry humping, smut. Word count: ~1300

Summary: Aemond has always hated his name day, until today.

Author's note: A birthday gift for @aemondsmoon - happy birthday, Mar! I hope you enjoy. No tag list - follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on notification. Community labels are for cops.

The flagstones are cool beneath her bare feet, her way dimly lit by the braziers that burn low against the walls of the corridors of Maegor’s Holdfast. The heavy wooden door creaks in protest as she pushes it open, slipping through the gap before closing it firmly behind her.

“Are you asleep?” She whispers into the gloom of Aemond’s chambers, moving with less trepidation now that she is in the privacy of his rooms.

“I was about to be”, comes his clipped reply, yet he eyes her with mild amusement and curiosity as he sits perched on the edge of his bed.

His hair hangs loose around his shoulders, the sapphire in his left eye socket shines faintly in the light reflected from the dying embers of the fireplace.

Seeing him dressed in only his breeches, sculpted torso bared to her, she feels less self conscious about her state of undress, though she wishes she’d taken the time to put on a robe before sneaking in here. The thin cotton of her nightgown does little to protect her from the chill of the air and she shivers slightly as she stands before Aemond, taking in the sight of him.

“Was there a reason you decided to sneak in here, or have you just come to gawk at me?”

She would assume his words are harsh, were it not for the faintest of smirks upon his lips that hints at subtle playfulness.

Huffing a soft laugh, she shakes her head, feeling her skin grow warm with embarrassment. “It is the hour of the owl,” she tells him softly.

“Hmmm,” Aemond cocks his head, “my betrothed can tell the time, such a clever little thing.”

She rolls her eyes, moving to sit beside him on the bed. “That is not what I mean! It is your name day!”

His shoulders sag slightly, mouth pressing into a tight line as he looks away from her. “So it is.”

“Are you not looking forward to it?” She asks, craning her neck slightly in an attempt to meet his eye.

He sighs, rolling his eye. “No. It seems farcical that there should be a day to celebrate my birth, when I am ignored on every other day of the year. The only difference is that Aegon will have an excuse to be in his cups all day.”

Her heart sinks. She knows that Aemond is not especially fond of celebrations, but had never imagined that that extended as far as occasions designed to celebrate him.

“This year is different though,” she reassures him, taking his hand. “This year you have me.”

He interlocks his fingers with hers, stroking his thumb softly over the back of her hand. “Yes, I have you. Forgive me. I do not meant to be ungrateful, it is just–”

She shakes her head, her free hand reaching up to stroke the softness of his long hair. “There is nothing to forgive. Perhaps my gift will lift your spirits?”

Aemond raises an eyebrow. “I did not see you bring anything in with you.”

She smiles, bumping her nose softly against his. “It is something we shall experience together.”

His right eye darkens, pupil dilating slightly as he lets go of her hand to cup the back of her neck. “And what is it you’d like to experience?”

A shiver of excitement runs through her and she has to remind herself to remain in control. Throughout her courtship with the One Eyed Prince it has been all too easy to allow him to dominate her; when he sinks his deft fingers into her hair as they kiss, cradling her head but also directing the pace of their movements. He takes the lead when he holds her down by her thighs and feasts on her cunny like a man starved, even when she sinks to her knees to pleasure him, he grabs a handful of her tresses as he thrusts himself into her mouth.

She knows that look, the gaze of a predator stalking its prey. It has arousal pooling between her thighs, but this time she wants to take charge. The idea has not left her mind since her chambermaid told her about it in hushed, excited whispers as she had combed through her hair just a few days ago. She had decided there and then that this would be the perfect occasion for it.

“You are going to lay back and take off your breeches,” she tells him, attempting to sound more authoritative than she feels, as she wriggles free from his grasp.

He stares at her for a moment, a silent challenge, but she juts out her chin in defiance, not backing down from her command.

Aemond sighs. “Very well,” he slips off his breeches and lays back on the bed.

Long and lean, he is a magnificent sight to behold, stretched out and bare before her, half hardened cock sitting proudly between his thighs.

She gasps it, reveling in the velvety softness of its weight in her palm and proceeds to stroke him from root to tip, watching his lips part and his breaths become more shallow as she rouses him to full attention.

Satisfied with her work, she moves to straddle him, a knee digging into the softness of the mattress either side of her hips, and lifts her nightgown above her hips, hovering over his erection.

Aemond’s brow furrows, he places a firm hand upon her thigh to halt her movements. “I would not sully your virtue before we are married for something as frivolous as my name day,” he scolds.

“Do not worry,” she soothes him, stroking a hand down the smoothness of his chest, “I will not take you inside. Trust me, this will feel good for both of us.”

He drops his hand back to his side, watching her with curiosity as she presses herself against his length, rocking her hips backwards and forwards, gliding along the length of him, coating him in her slick.

His eye widens and he draws in a shaky breath, causing her to grin.

“Does that feel good?” She asks in a whisper.

Aemond screws his eye shut, nodding as she quickens her pace, rubbing against him in faster strokes. “G-gods…yes. It feels divine.”

She giggles, feeling her core begin to throb as she continues to rock against him, gasping as his hands reach for the hem of her nightgown.

“It would be cruel of you to give me a gift I cannot unwrap,” he rasps, pulling the garment off and over her head.

His hands reach up to her breasts, thumbs brushing over the hardened peaks, making her whine. He leans up, wrapping an arm around her waist and captures her lips in a heated kiss, his mouth moving hungrily against hers as she threads her fingers into his hair to draw him closer.

It’s only when she feels his other hand grab her hip, pushing and pulling her against him, as his hips buck against her, adding to the friction, that she realises he has managed to once more take control of the situation.

She does not mind though, not when every thrust of their hips against each other builds such delicious pressure deep within her. Their breaths become ragged, their panting and the sounds of Aemond gliding through her wetness filling the silence of the bedchamber.

Feeling him throb and pulsate against her sends her over the edge and she tenses, trembling as she falls apart, clenching around nothing, watching through hazy, pleasure drunk eyes as Aemond spills pearlescent strands of hot spend across his lower abdomen with a groan.

He lets go of her, collapsing backwards and she allows herself a moment to admire him. He is truly beautiful like this, hair spread messily like a halo around his head, covered in a light layer of perspiration as he fights to catch his breath through slightly parted lips.

Flopping down beside him, she reaches out to caress his cheek. “I do hope you enjoyed your name day gift.”

He is quiet for a moment, before turning to gaze at her. “I think I will prefer next year’s, when I can spill inside of you.”

Perhaps he is growing to like this special day after all.

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sapphire-writes · 9 months

Text

Our Last Summer (modern!HOTD)

part 8 of 10 || series masterlist || previous part || next part

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Reader

summary: The Kingsroad Country Club hosts its annual gala and auction. An unwelcome guest causes trouble for you and the gang.

word count: 6.2k

rating: Mature/Explicit/18+

warnings below the cut!

warnings: language, fighting, and mentions of violence, slight exhibitionism, oral (male-receiving, ball play), reader domming a lil bit, dirty talk, praise, cum eating, kissing

note: went a lil crazy with this one pls forgive my feral nature

dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

as always, comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated but not expected ❤️

“Torture,” Helaena says, her lips in a deep pout, “This is actual torture.”

You glance over at her as you all exit the car that dropped you off at the Kingsroad Country Club. It had just been you, Aegon, Aemond, and Helaena; Alicent had been driven separately several hours earlier to help prepare.

Helaena smoothes the silver blue dress, looking rather uncomfortable yet stunning. You can’t imagine any of the Targaryens looking bad ever; they’re all blessed with angelic good looks. But Helaena is clearly out of her element in the silk dress and heels. You’d helped her with her makeup, though it was hard to get her to sit still.

You’d gotten ready with Helaena, as Baela was summoned to Dragonstone earlier in the day. The whole family was arriving together, to make an entrance.

Aegon and Aemond are dressed similarly in suits and ties; the boys truly had it easiest. Though Aemond wore a black tie whereas Aegon wore a deep green one.

You smooth your own dress, feeling a little self-conscious around the Targaryens. You’d chosen a silky black dress when you’d gone shopping a few weeks ago; it hugs every curve, falling to the middle of your thighs. You’d paired it with some hoops and a layered necklace (borrowed from Helaena).

“You look incredible, Hel,” you assured her, and she rolled her eyes.

“I mean, I know,” she tells you, “I’m a hot person. You too! Very sexy chic,” she teases, grabbing your hand and twirling you.

Aemond smirks, watching the display. Your cheeks warm as you focus on not tripping in your heels. Helaena stops spinning you, pulling your back against her front.

“Careful, Aemond,” she teases, “I just might steal your girl.”

“Alright, enough,” Aemond says, reaching forward and taking your hand, pulling you from Helaena’s embrace.

She laughs as Aemond pulls you close before closing the car door. Aegon has propped himself against the hood of the car, attempting to light a cigarette. Helaena moves past him, smacking him on the back of the head. The cigarette falls to the ground and Aegon groans.

“Bitch,” he mutters.

“Watch it,” Helaena warns, heading up the steps, “Let’s go find Mom.”

Aegon trails behind her, flicking his lighter shut and shoving it into his pocket.

Aemond’s fingers are still intertwined with yours as he moves to follow his siblings; you can feel the coolness of the rings that adorn his slender fingers. He stops just at the front of the car, leaning against it until he’s face to face with you. He holds your hand the whole time, pulling you forward gently.

“Shouldn’t we head in?” you ask, now standing between his legs. He drags your hand up, letting it go when it rests on his shoulder.

“In a minute,” he murmurs, bringing his hands to your waist, “First I want to tell you how beautiful you look.”

Your face warms and you blink rapidly, eyes downcast. For someone you originally thought was just a fuckboy, Aemond Targaryen was turning out to be quite the romantic. He somehow knew all the things to say that would send your heart fluttering in your chest, and turn your legs to jelly.

Aemond watches your reaction, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles. You wet your lips, looking up at him.

“Tell me then,” you tease, and he gently tugs you forward capturing your lips in a kiss.

It’s slow and passionate; heat curls in your belly along with a desperate ache between your legs. It trickles through your veins, flooding your entire body with euphoria. You’ve never felt this feeling before; this almost painful need for another person. Aemond deepens the kiss, letting his tongue slip into your waiting mouth. He tastes of spearmint, and something spicy; the rum Aegon had insisted you all try before heading over.

Aemond pulls away, the slight smile still on his face as he rubs circles on your hips with his thumbs.

“You look beautiful,” he tells you, so close you can feel his lips moving with the words he speaks.

You smile at his words, tilting your head to bump the tip of your nose against his. Aemond releases a breath as you do so, cupping your cheek with one large hand and pressing a softer kiss to your lips.

“Let’s go,” he tells you, and you head inside.

The Kingsroad Country Club is nothing short of extravagant when you make your way into the main ballroom. You’d deposited your coat in a room down the hall for safekeeping. Your eyes are wide as saucers as you take in the gorgeous arrangement of colorful flowers throughout the room, and cream-colored silk streamers that hang from the ceiling.

Ice sculptures of various mythical creatures are scattered throughout the room, several of them dragons you can’t help but notice. Everyone is dressed to the nines; you’ve never been to such a fancy event. You spot Sara, clad in a deep purple dress and she waves at you, nudging Cregan who stands beside her. He gives you a friendly wave as well.

Floris is here; you spot her helping explain something to an older woman. She smiles at you brightly and mouths talk later, before returning to her task. Your chest warms as you scout the crowd for Baela and Rhaena. You know they’d arrived before you as you received a frantic text from Baela as you were getting ready. Help me, followed by a skull emoji.

“I’ll get you a drink,” Aemond murmurs, leaning down to speak in your ear. You nod, continuing to look for the twins, and he walks over to the bar.

Helaena’s silver head comes into view; she’s standing next to Alicent who is speaking rapidly. Helaena’s expression is pained and she tugs her shoulder away from her mother’s reaching hand. The dynamics of this family are throwing you through loops.

You hear a familiar voice call your name, and turn to see Will Tyrell accompanied by someone you don’t recognize. You give him a friendly smile as he approaches. Will had been more than understanding when you’d reached out to him earlier in the week; you’d told him while you had a lovely time, you thought it would be best to remain friends.

Will, being the total sweetheart he is, agreed without hesitation. He makes his way over to you, wearing a white button-down shirt with an open dark navy jacket with matching slacks. His brown curls are slicked back against his skull. His friend is dressed similarly; clad in a deep maroon jacket and slacks.

His features are sharp, almost fox-like. You notice he has rather large ears, hidden behind strawberry-blonde curls and a dusting of freckles across the bridge of his nose.

“Good to see you,” you tell Will, pulling him into a friendly hug. You glance awkwardly at his friend, waiting to be introduced when Aegon joins you.

“Hughie!” Aegon says, pulling in the stranger with his hand and clasping him on the shoulder, “Been a while man.”

“Yeah, good to see you,” he answers with a grin, “Been in Highgarden for most of the summer.”

His eyes drift over to you, “Hugh Florent.”

He holds his hand out which you shake, and smiles politely. Hugh’s eyebrow raises as you tell him your name, gaze flickering to Will who is lost in conversation with Aegon. Something about sharks from what you can hear.

“You’ve been hanging with Will this summer, yeah?” Hugh asks, lips curving into a slight smirk.

“We’ve been out a couple of times, yeah,” you tell him, as Aemond returns to your side. You feel him slide an arm around your waist, gently tugging you closer to his warm body.

Hugh’s eyes flicker between you both as Aemond hands you a glass of champagne. You thank him, taking a small sip; the bubbles leave a tingling sensation on your tongue.

“Aemond,” Hugh says with a grin, “You’ve decided to make an appearance.”

“My mother organized the gala and auction,” Aemond answers, his voice rather cold, “Important to support her.”

“Are you bidding on anything?” Hugh asks, placing his hands in his pockets.

“If something catches my eye,” Aemond answers, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

Hugh’s eyes slide over to you once more.

“Seems like something already did,” Hugh comments, as Will hands him a beer, “Thanks, man.”

You feel Aemond’s arm tighten around you, and he gives Hugh a tight smile, eye narrowing slightly. You glance up at him, feeling the tension rolling off his lean, muscular form. Aemond tilts down to your height, his lips beside your ear.

“Have you seen Baela yet?” he asks softly, and you shake your head, “I saw her while I was getting your drink; I’ll take you to her.”

And with that, Aemond leads you away from Hugh, giving him a polite nod as you exit. Aemond keeps his arm around you as you move through the crowd and onto the large patio where some guests have begun mingling.

“Who is he?” you ask, keeping your voice low.

“One of Aegon’s fraternity brothers,” Aemond answers, jaw clenched, “Best to stay away from him.”

You couldn’t agree more. The uneasy feeling in your stomach from the interaction with Hugh doesn’t last long, as you spot Baela and Rhaena, along with Daemon and Rhaenyra. Luke is seated next to his mother fiddling with his tie. Rhaenyra scolds him before running her hand over the back of his head.

Baela tilts her wine glass upwards, finishing the dregs before abandoning the glass on the table. Her eyes widen as she sees you and she uses the moment to pull away from her father and stepmother. Daemon makes a face but you watch Rhaenyra slide her hand into his, shaking her head gently.

Baela’s arms sling around your shoulders pulling you into a tight hug. She smells like the perfume you got her for her last birthday; light and floral.

“Holy shit you smoke show!” she comments, admiring your look, “Damn Aemond, you’re a lucky guy.”

“Insanely,” Aemond agrees.

“You look stunning Baela, holy fuck,” you tell her. Baela is a goddess in her aquamarine-colored dress that clings to every curve.

Some of her curls are pulled back from her face by silver pins adorned with seahorses with pale blue gemstones for eyes. The rest of her curls hang freely down her back. Glitter shimmers on her chest and arms, matching the highlighter atop her cheekbones. Baela looks the part of a sea enchantress, ready to drag those who cross her to a watery grave.

Rhaena’s dress is similar, though a shade of pale pink. She waves at you, but stays close to her father’s side, standing between him and Rhaenyra. Her locs hang freely and you can see gemstones sparkling around her eyes.

Baela preens at your praise, giving you a little twirl.

“I mean, it was nothing really,” she says, “Thank god you’re here though, it’s been so boring.”

“How’s your dad?” you ask.

“Fine, I guess,” she says with a sigh, “He got what he wanted. The happy little family all together.” She crosses her arms in front of her.

“No Jace?”

“He said he didn’t think he’d be back in time,” she reminds you, “Regatta is still 2 weeks away, he’ll be back for Luke.”

“That’s good,” you tell her. Luke looks lost without his brother. Smaller.

Baela sighs, looking back at her family. Rhaena jerks her chin, motioning for Baela to rejoin.

“Gods,” Baela grumbles, “Probably another picture. I had to take one with Rhaenyra earlier.”

“Sorry,” you tell her, wincing.

“It’s whatever at this point,” Baela says, rolling her eyes, ��Catch you in a bit? The fireworks are supposed to be really cool this year.”

You nod, giving her hand a squeeze.

“You got this,” you tell her and she smiles, her eyes sad.

“Thank you,” she says, turning to Aemond, “Take care of my girl.”

“Will do,” Aemond promises.

Baela turns back suddenly.

“Shoot, will you do me a favor?” she asks, and you quickly nod, “Grab my phone? It's in the coat room. It’s my black one with the seahorse buttons.”

“Of course,” you tell her as Rhaena calls her name, “Go, go I’ll grab it and be right back.”

Baela thanks you again, heading back over to Rhaena and the others. You glance up at Aemond, handing him your glass.

“I’ll be right back,” you tell him.

“Want me to come with you?” he asks.

“It’s alright, I’ll only be a moment,” you assure him, “Besides, maybe check on Hel? She looks like she’s in pain.”

Aemond chuckles slightly but agrees as you head out of the ballroom and down the hall. The music dies as you make your way further to the uninhabited side of the country club, pushing open the glass doors that lead to the smaller room where all the coats have been kept.

There are other things present as well, some auction items to be revealed later in the night. You make your way to the women’s coats, fingering through them for Baela’s. It’s easy to spot with the buttons and you grab her phone, sliding it between your breasts. You remove your phone, as that’s where you’d been stashing it, and check your notifications.

“Hiding from someone?” a voice calls and you turn around, startled.

Your phone drops from your hand, landing on the ground with a loud thump. Hugh Florent winces apologetically, leaning forward to grab it. He holds it out to you.

“Thanks,” you tell him, taking your phone with a tight smile.

“No problem,” he says, moving deeper into the room before throwing himself down onto a nearby chaise lounge, “I always try to escape these things too, they’re terribly boring.”

He pulls out a cigarette from his suit pocket, placing it between his lips before lighting it. The sweet smell of smoke fills the air, making your nose wrinkle.

“You’re not hiding from Will, I hope?” he asks, before exhaling a cloud of smoke.

“I’m not hiding from anyone,” you tell him, “I don’t think you’re allowed to smoke in here.”

A smile forms on his face around the cigarette that dangles from his lips.

“Our little secret then,” he says, causing the hair on your arms to stand on edge, “Want one?”

“No,” you tell him, “I should be getting back.”

“Stay a minute,” he insists.

“I really-”

“Stay,” he says, his tone more commanding this time, “Keep me company. Don’t be rude.”

Your face warms, the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and a lump begins to form in your throat. You hate feeling like this. Like you want to tell him to go fuck himself and leave the room. But your feet are glued to the floor and you stand, frozen in place.

Hugh smiles at his victory and your obvious discomfort. You just need a minute, then you’ll go. C’mon, leave the room. Aemond is waiting.

“You getting on with Will then?” he asks, and your stomach lurches.

“We’ve gone out,” you tell him.

“But you’re with Targaryen now?” Hugh clarifies and you nod.

If it's one thing men respect, it's another man having some sort of claim to you. The thought sours your stomach and causes tears to prickle in the back of your eyes. Your heart is beating against your ribs like a rabbit’s foot.

You don’t suppose men ever feel this way. Like prey.

“Well, if one-eye gets boring,” he drones, and you flinch at the cruel nickname, “You’re welcome to my bed anytime.”

Your lips curl in disgust.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m just down the way a bit,” he says with a shrug, “Since you’re keen to give it up for King’s Landing residents.”

Your jaw drops at his insult, and suddenly adrenaline floods through you, your feet unstuck. The fear that was trickling through your veins moments ago is replaced with white-hot anger.

“Go fuck yourself,” you tell him, through gritted teeth.

Hugh leaps from the chaise as you go to leave, reaching out and grabbing your forearm, holding you in place.

“Just teasing, that’s all,” he insists, tightening his grip as you attempt to pull away.

“Get off me!” you yell, turning and slapping Hugh across the face.

“Hey!” a deep voice echoes through the room and the pressure disappears from your forearm. A few tears slip past your lower lids as you meet the eyes of Cregan Stark.

He walks forward into the room, his eyes locked on Hugh, who has backed up several paces.

“Everything's al-”

“Shut the fuck up man,” Cregan snaps at him, before turning to face you.

You release a shaky breath, wiping your hands over your cheeks, drying the tears that escaped.

“Are you alright?” Cregan asks, ducking to meet your height. He places one hand on your shoulder, his thumb rubbing circles on your flesh.

You nod, struggling to find the words to thank him.

“Yeah….I’m okay…just a little shaken up,” you tell him, trying to keep your voice steady. Hugh straightens up, dusting his dress pants and running a hand over his gelled hair.

“Let’s get you back to the party,” Cregan says softly, using his body to shield you from Hugh’s view.

You let Cregan lead you toward the door, stopping briefly to whisper, “Please don’t say anything; I don’t want to make this a thing.”

Cregan’s expression is pained but he gives you a curt nod as the door opens.

“You guys find any coolers in here?” Aegon asks, trying to squeeze by, “Waiters aren’t filling me up fast enough and the bar cut me off-”

Aegon’s sentence dies as he looks at you, his eyebrows concaving together in confusion. You watch as the gears whirl in his head as his eyes flicker between you and Hugh; your tear-stained cheeks, his tense posture, Cregan’s protective stance.

“Aegon don’t-”

Cregan’s words fall on deaf ears as Aegon pushes by you both and slams his hands into Hugh Florent’s chest.

“AEGON!” you call.

“The fuck you think you’re doing, huh?” Aegon growls, grabbing Hugh by his shirt, “That’s my brother’s girl you’re messing with.”

“Relax bro,” Hugh says, that sly smirk still plastered on his face, “We were just talking, she didn’t have to get all upset-”

“I’m sure Aemond will love to hear that,” Aegon says roughly, “Go be a sleazeball somewhere else- not at my family’s fucking club.” Aegon releases him with a shove, straightening up and looking at you.

“You alright?” he asks, and you nod, lips parted in shock. You’d hardly expected Aegon of all people to come to your defense.

He moves forward ushering you and Cregan back down the hallways towards the main ballroom.

“Let’s not mention this to Aemond right now,” Aegon says, on the opposite side of you, “I don’t think that-”

A whistle comes from behind you, as you’re heading out of the ballroom and onto the lit porch where most of the patrons have retired to watch the fireworks. You catch Aemond’s eye from across the sea of people, watching the corner of his mouth twitch into his familiar smirk. Your heart leaps into your throat, eyes wide. Aemond reads your upset expression instantly and begins moving forward toward you.

You turn as Hugh enters, his tongue held between his teeth. It seems he’s not eager to end this.

“You’re one to fucking talk, Egg,” Hugh says through a laugh.

“Hugh, I swear to-”

“I didn’t know she was spoken for,” Hugh continues, “Must be a real ego boost for your bro, to be hitting Tyrell’s sloppy seconds.”

Aegon surges forward, but Cregan blocks him with his chest. You raise your eyebrows, cheeks hot with humiliation. Will has overheard and makes his way over to you as well.

“Is this guy for real?” you ask, not believing what you’re hearing, “Aegon just leave it!”

Aegon gives an exasperated chuckle, holding both hands out in front of him. Will frowns, shaking his head at his friend. Several guests have started to watch the scene unfold.

“Not cool dude,” he says, eyebrows furrowed.

“Just standing up for you, bro,” Hugh insists.

“Well don’t,” Will says, before turning and giving you an apologetic look.

Aemond is weaving his way closer, still moving through the crowd as Aegon insists to Cregan he’s fine. Cregan reluctantly steps in front of you and Aegon, pushing open the glass doors leading outside. He holds them open for you both, standing on the deck letting in the warm night air and music that plays from the live band.

You think you’re in the clear as Aemond squeezes by Cregan into the room. His hands find yours and you press yourself closer to him. He releases one of your hands to cup your cheek, violet eye flickering over your face taking in every inch. He holds your cheek carefully, as though you may shatter in his palm.

“What happened?” he murmurs, gaze moving to rest on Hugh. You cover his hand with your own.

“Nothing, I’m fine,” you assure him, feeling your anxiety calm in his presence.

“If she’s not putting out, maybe Helaena is,” Hugh calls to Aegon, “She’s been looking pretty hot lately-”

Everything happens very fast after that. Will tells Hugh off, pushing his shoulder lightly as Aegon lurches forward once more. This time, he’s quicker than Cregan and he sends Hugh Florent tumbling to the ground.

“Asshole!” you yell at Hugh, just as Aegon collides with him, “Oh shit, shit shit!”

“Aegon!” Aemond calls, pulling his brother from Hugh.

“Keep my family’s name out of your fucking mouth!” Aegon snarls as Aemond drags him backward through the door and onto the outdoor space.

The scuffle has been noticed at this point, with several people leaning over one another to see what all the ruckus is. Hugh laughs from behind you, wiping some blood that trickles from the corner of his mouth.

“Still fiery as ever, Egg,” Hugh teases, eyes alight with mischief, “Wondered where that went.”

It’s Aemond who turns to him now, his gaze cold as ice. He doesn’t say anything, just stares him down until Hugh swallows, and breaks away from his gaze. Hugh coughs, before heading back inside, finally retreating.

“I’m good, I’m good!” Aegon says to Cregan who is still attempting to corral him.

Helaena pushes through the crowd, a concerned expression on her face.

“What the fuck happened?” Helaena asks, but Aegon shakes his head.

“He’s a prick, he deserved to be called out that’s all.”

“Now? You think now was the best time to do that?” Helaena growls, raising a brow.

Aegon clicks his tongue, sharply inhaling through his nose. He could tell her what Hugh said, but he stays quiet instead.

“Great,” Hel says, exasperated, “Mom is going to skin us alive.”

She’s probably right. If you’ve learned anything about Alicent Hightower-Tarageyn, it’s that events like these are important to her. Image is everything. Aegon shrugs, but you can tell the thought of his mother being angry with him makes him anxious; his hands have begun to tremble.

“Mr. Targaryen,” a security guard says approaching, “My apologies sir but we’ve received several complaints and are going to have to escort you from the party-”

“What?” you ask incredulously, “He didn’t do anything.”

“Ma’am-”

“He was helping me, you can’t kick him out,” you tell them, “If anything Hugh should leave!”

“It’s all good, no no, I’ll go,” Aegon assures them, reaching into the ice bucket on top of the outdoor bar and grabbing a bottle of champagne, “Party’s getting lame anyway.”

He begins walking down the steps and onto the grass that extends off into the golf courses in the distance.

“Hel? You got a j with you? Wanna blow this place?” he calls, looking back with a lopsided grin.

Helaena smiles at her brother, rolling her eyes.

“Night’s going to hell anyway,” she says with a sigh, “Fuck it I guess.”

She hurries after Aegon, down the steps.

“C’mon Aem! Live a little!” Aegon calls, walking backward toward the golf course.

Aemond glances at you and you slip your hand into his, tugging him forward.

“Let’s go,” you tell him, grinning.

You turn suddenly, spotting Baela with Rhaena. Daemon stands behind her, observing the scene along with Rhaenyra who sits beside him. His hand rests on her shoulder as she strokes her protruding pregnant belly.

“Bae!” you call, motioning to her.

Her eyes are sad and she wets her lips looking back at her father.

“C’mon Baela!” Aegon calls, echoed by Helaena.

You can see Daemon’s brows knit together, see him mouthing to Baela trying to get her to stay. But Baela rushes forward with a smile on her face, holding her skirts as she runs down the steps and across the field. You hold your arms open as she barrels into you, embracing you in a spinning hug as you continue further away from the party.

“Jackpot!” Aegon says, finding a row of golf carts. He jumps in the driver's seat and Helaena sits beside him. Aegon reaches back to pat the backseat, “My lady,” he says motioning for Baela to sit.

She does with a laugh, just as Rhaena tumbles down the hill, with Sara in tow; their fingers laced together.

They grab the next one just as Aegon revs the engine, taking off down the green hills. You can hear Helaena cheering as you watch them bob and weave through the grassy hills. Rhaena and Sara take off moments later.

You and Aemond start the next one, driving it slower than the rest at a more leisurely pace. You lean your head back, looking up at the stairs, and letting the warm summer night air pass over you.

You can hear the laughter of your friends growing louder as the sounds of the gala begin to die in the distance.

You trail behind them for a while, before taking a detour down a more secluded part of the golf course. Aemond throws the golf cart in park, looking over at you. You reach in between your boobs, pulling out Baela’s phone and placing it on the dashboard with your own on top of it.

“What happened?” Aemond asks, his fingers stroking your arm.

“Nothing important,” you assure him, “Just Hugh being a douchebag. Aegon really helped me out, I’ll have to thank him.”

Aemond hums to acknowledge your comment.

“Aegon’s nothing if not loyal,” Aemond agrees, “Like a golden retriever.”

You snort at the comparison.

“It was really nice,” you tell him, “How do you get asked to leave your own club?”

“Our family is just one of many donors,” Aemond tells you, “It’s not like we truly own the place.”

You nod, turning in the seat to face him.

“Where have they gone?” you ask, listening closely for the sound of your friends.

They must have gone pretty far ahead, all you can hear is the crickets chirping and the gentle sounds of waves crashing against the rocks in the distance.

“Don’t know,” Aemond comments, “Here, let's sit here,” He motions to the rather spacious backward-facing rear seats, “Bet we can see the bay.”

You exit, sitting down on the rear seats. Sure enough, you can just make out Blackwater Bay in the distance. You lean into Aemond as he sits beside you.

You reach forward, placing your hand on his upper thigh beginning to stroke smooth circles. You mean it innocently enough to begin with; just wanting to be touching him in some capacity. But his breathing turns shallow, and you can soon feel his cock hardening, straining through his slacks.

You move your hand over his bulge, squeezing gently, before letting your hands fiddle with the zipper. Aemond remains very still beside you.

“Can I?” you ask, heart, pounding with anticipation as you glance up at him.

“Fuck, of course, you can,” he tells you as you continue to palm his bulge, “Anything you want.”

You ease the zipper down and dip your hands in to remove his half-hard cock from his slacks; running your hand up and down at a leisurely pace. Aemond hisses as you squeeze him; you can feel him pulsating in your palm. It sends warmth pooling in between your thighs and you wet your lips in anticipation.

“What do you want me to do?” you ask, innocently tilting your head to the side.

“Don’t tease me,” he says through gritted teeth.

You slide off the seat, positioning yourself in the space between his legs. He widens his stance, letting his knees fall open. Kneeling in front of him you give his cock a tug.

“I don’t really think you’re not in a position to make demands,” you tease, ignoring his command.

Aemond releases a throaty moan as you lean forward, wrapping your lips around the swollen head. You hum in appreciation, looking up at him through your lashes as you suckle at the tip.

“Fuck,” he whispers, as you widen your mouth letting your tongue taste the underside of his shaft, paying special attention to the vein that travels up his length.

You drag your tongue up slowly, removing your lips and letting your tongue slide over his slit gathering the precum that leaks from it.

You swallow what your tongue collected, pumping him a few more times with just your hand. He’s so big. The perfect girth where your fingers struggle to touch each other when your hand is wrapped around him.

Long, hard, and heavy; always demandingly pressed against you, eager to be buried inside you in whichever way you preferred. Such a pretty cock Aemond has it drives you fucking insane. You haven’t had the time yet to appreciate it the way you’d like to. But now is your opportunity.

“You’re so pretty,” you comment, eyes wide as you watch your hand engulf him.

Aemond lets out a breathy laugh.

“Stop it,” he begs, his voice breaking into a slight whine; it makes you smile.

You lean forward, engulfing him fully in your mouth- at least as much as you can before you’re forced to pump the rest with your hand. Aemond’s hand flies to the back of your head keeping your mouth securely on him. You begin to move, dragging your mouth up and down along his length, and swirling your tongue around him.

You hum at the feeling of his hand tightening on the back of your head as you continue.

“Gods,” he groans, “So fucking perfect.”

Your lips tug upwards in what you can manage of a smile with his cock stuffed to the hilt down your throat. You gag slightly as he rocks his hips, pressing further down your throat. Aemond’s head tilts back, his chest rising and falling with his uneven, shaky breath.

You hollow your cheeks creating more suction as you try to take him deeper in your throat. Your heart is pounding and you try to even your breathing through your nose as you focus on not gagging on his thick length.

“Fucking hell,” he whines, “Oh gods--- fuck that mouth.” His hips lurch forward and you moan around him, drool dribbling out the corner of your mouth and onto your chin.

Aemond’s hand grips the back of your head, holding on for dear life as your hand joins your mouth in its efforts. Lewd, wet noises fill the summer air and you pull off him with a gasp.

“Seven hells,” he whimpers, as you lean forward, mouthing at his balls.

You eagerly press your tongue against them, rolling them against your mouth as you continue to jerk him off with your hand. Aemond’s a mess, head falling back, eye squeezing shut in pleasure. You suckle at the soft skin between his balls, alternating your attention between the pair of them.

“You like that baby?” you murmur, kissing up his shaft, “Like when I play with your balls?”

“Fuck yes,” he whimpers, “Oh fuck, feels so good-” his sentence ends in a desperate whimper as you take him fully in your mouth once more.

You bring your hand to cup his balls, gently massaging them as you suck him off. You love the feeling of having Aemond at your mercy; pride sears through your veins like fire at the messy state of him. The hand that isn’t on your head clutches the back of the seat, digging into the soft tan leather.

You release him with a pop, tapping the head of his cock on your outstretched tongue. Aemond watches you, eye wide, as you kiss the swollen head of his cock, before smiling up at him.

“Are you gonna cum?” you ask, as innocently as you can, eyes wide, “Want you to cum in my mouth.”

“Holy fucking--,” Aemond whines, as you suckle at the tip before dragging your lips down the side of his shaft, “Fuck yes, yes I’m gonna cum-” You lick a path up his shaft, engulfing him in your mouth once more.

You know he’s close, you can feel him pulsating in your mouth, but you want to drag this out as long as you can. You know from experience that Aemond isn’t usually the submissive type, and having him like this is a real treat.

“Fuck, gods you’re such a good girl,” Aemond praises as you move your head faster, “Shit..I fucking love this…like you so much..” Your cheeks warm at his praise, and pleasant butterflies flutter in your belly.

You release him one final time, pumping him with your hand. You’re a drooling mess, hand and face covered in saliva as you grin up at him.

“Let me taste your cum,” you tell him, “Please, give it to me, I want it so bad.”

“Fucking, yeah fuck I’ll give it to you,” Aemond whines, “So good, so fucking good, oh fuuuck.” His words die with a whimper as his dick twitches in your mouth and his warm, salty release hits the back of your throat.

You moan, taking it all, making sure to keep some in your mouth as you pull off of him. Aemond’s hand finds your chin, angling it upwards.

“Show me,” he asks, and you present your tongue to him before swallowing, “Such a fucking good girl.”

He drags you upwards onto his lap, kissing you harshly tasting his release on your tongue. He moans into your mouth and you wrap your arms around his neck.

“My good girl,” he murmurs between kisses, “Gods you’re perfect. My girl is so perfect.”

You’re preening at his praise, moaning happily against him as he continues to kiss you, moving to press his lips against your neck.

His fingers move beneath your dress, just as the sound of tires can be heard in the distance, along with yelling. Aemond growls, biting down against your shoulder causing you to cry out at the mixture of pleasure and pain. You lift your hips as Aemond moves his semi-hard cock back into his pants, zipping them.

“This isn’t finished,” he promises, cupping his hand around the back of your neck and kissing you once more, “Don’t think I’m letting you get away with that.”

Anticipation tingles down your spine and you giggle against his mouth.

“What’re you going to do?”

“Oh just you fucking wait,” he murmurs, hands grabbing the meat of your ass. You can feel his smile against your mouth as he kisses you.

“Yo! Lovebirds! Yoo-hoo!” Aegon calls, bringing the golf cart to a screeching stop beside you.

Helaena lurches forward as it stops, giggling maniacally. You can smell the weed from here, and laugh, pulling yourself from Aemond’s lap.

Aegon dramatically frowns, leaning against the steering wheel, as Sara and Rhaena pull up beside them. His eyes narrow.

“Are we interrupting something?” Aegon asks, tapping his finger against his chin.

“No,” you answer.

“Yes,” Aemond says, not missing a beat.

You slap him playfully on the chest.

“Too bad, we missed you losers,” Helaena sneers, but she gives you a happy smile.

“Dude, look at the moon!” Rhaena says, stepping out of the cart and laying on the grass. Sara joins her, laying beside her.

Baela gets out as well, and soon you’re all lying down facing the clear night sky. Sara points out different constellations, which Aegon struggles to identify until Sara is practically holding his hand, pointing to each star.

Suddenly some sprinklers begin to go off in the distance and Baela chuckles, mentioning you’ll have to leave soon to avoid getting soaked. Aemond’s arm is draped underneath your head, and you curl into him, listening to the sound of his heart beating.

“Come back to mine?” Aemond asks, his voice a low murmur.

You hum, nuzzling against him.

“What about no sleepovers?” you tease and he pulls you closer.

“The rules are null and void,” he says firmly, pressing his lips against your forehead. Warmth floods through you and your chest swells with emotion.

As you listen to the sound of crickets echoing around you a sharp pain pierces your chest. The month of August has always felt melancholic to you.

A month of endings.

The music of the sprinklers and the crickets suddenly changes into the sound of summer coming to an inevitable end.

Of you and Aemond coming to an end.

You pull him closer, throwing your leg over his and tucking your head deeper into the crook of his neck. Breathing in his cologne, relishing the feeling of the kiss he places on the top of your head.

You don’t want to think about that now. August is here, but it’s not over yet.

This moment here in this field, wrapped up in his arms, is endless.

note: thank you so much for reading!! we've got 2 parts left besties!!

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