#OUR VICTORY SHALL BE SO SWEET | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

fanfictionismyaddiction · 5 months ago

Text

Celebrating Wins

Word count: 942

Pairing: Lando norris x girlfriend!reader

Summary: As a new couple landos girlfrined celebrates his polepostion with with a playful, intimate evening, marking the start of their relationship

Request are open

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The excitement from the day still lingered as we made our way back to the hotel. The buzz of the crowd, the thrill of Lando securing pole position in Q3—it was all still fresh in our minds. But now, it was just us, away from the cameras and the noise, and I had something fun and a bit silly planned for our own private celebration. I couldn’t help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves. We had only just gotten together, and this was my first chance to really show him how proud I was of him. I wanted to make the night special, something he’d remember—not just as a celebration of his pole position, but as a moment that marked the beginning of us.

As we stepped into our room, Lando immediately burst into laughter. I had covered the bed with orange and blue confetti—McLaren’s colors, of course. There were small, goofy trophies on the nightstand, the kind you’d find at a dollar store, with labels like “World’s Best Driver” and “Pole Position King” hastily scribbled on them in my handwriting. I’d even put out a cheesy plastic crown that said “Speed King” in glittery letters.

“Are you serious?” Lando asked, grinning from ear to ear as he picked up one of the trophies. “You really went all out, didn’t you?”

“Well, someone’s got to remind you how awesome you are,” I teased, reaching up to place the crown on his head. It was a bit too small, but he wore it proudly, striking a ridiculous pose.

“I feel like royalty,” he declared, holding out his hand for me to kiss, as if he were some kind of racing monarch.

Laughing, I took his hand and gave it an exaggerated, over-the-top kiss. “Your Majesty, the Speed King, shall we dine?”

He snorted, his eyes shining with amusement. “Lead the way, my loyal subject.”

We moved to the small table I’d set up near the window, where a simple dinner was waiting for us—nothing too heavy, just some of Lando’s favorite Italian dishes, including a massive bowl of pasta. I’d even ordered pizza, because who can resist pizza in Italy? And there, chilling in the ice bucket, was a bottle of his favorite champagne.

As we sat down, I grabbed a napkin and tucked it into his shirt collar like a bib. “Can’t have you getting pasta sauce on your royal robes,” I said, doing my best to keep a straight face.

Lando burst out laughing again. “You’re ridiculous! But I love it.”

We dug into the food, the atmosphere light and playful. Lando twirled his pasta dramatically, pretending to be a food critic as he took a bite. “Ah, yes, the perfect carbo-loading meal for a champion,” he said in a mock-serious tone.

“Only the best for you, your highness,” I replied, mimicking his tone.

As we finished eating, I brought out a small cake I’d hidden earlier. It was nothing fancy, just a simple cake with “Pole Position!” written in blue and orange icing, with a little toy car on top for good measure. I stuck a single sparkler in the middle and lit it, the tiny fireworks crackling and popping.

Lando’s face lit up with childlike glee as he watched the sparkler. “This is amazing. I didn’t think I could be this excited about cake.”

“Well, it’s not just any cake,” I said, grinning. “It’s the first of many celebrations this weekend, I hope.”

“Does this mean if I win tomorrow, I get another cake?” he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, you bet,” I replied, slicing into the cake and handing him a piece. “And maybe I’ll even throw in a victory dance.”

He nearly choked on his cake from laughing so hard. “Please tell me you’re not serious about the dance.”

“I’m dead serious,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “It’ll be legendary. You’ll win the race and I’ll be the talk of the paddock for my sweet moves.”

He shook his head, still laughing. “Now I’m even more motivated to win, just to see this ‘legendary’ dance.”

After we finished the cake, we collapsed onto the bed, both of us a little too full and a lot too happy. Lando was still wearing the plastic crown, and I couldn’t help but giggle every time I looked at him.

“You know,” he said, turning to me with a grin, “this has been the best celebration ever. No fancy dinners, no big parties—just us, being goofy.”

I leaned in, resting my head on his shoulder. “That’s because it’s real. And you deserve to enjoy every second of it, without any pressure.”

He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close. “Thanks. I needed this. It’s easy to get caught up in everything, but tonight, I feel like I can just be me. With you.”

I reached up and took the crown off his head, placing it on mine. “Well, tomorrow, the Speed King is going to show everyone what he’s made of. And McLaren is going to be that much closer to winning it all.”

Lando grinned and leaned in to kiss me, his lips warm and soft against mine. “I couldn’t do it without you, you know. You make this all so much better.”

As the night wore on and we finally started to drift off to sleep, Lando whispered, “No matter what happens tomorrow, this is my favorite victory.”

I smiled, cuddling closer to him. “Mine too. But just so you know, I’m ready for another cake tomorrow.”

He chuckled softly. “You better start practicing that victory dance then.”

#fanfiction #reader insert #f1 #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #fanfic #fluff #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris x you #lando x reader #italien gp

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cloudyyoimiya · 2 years ago

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Can i request measuring hands with Dazai, chuuya and tecchou and s/o hands are smaller, please :)

this request was adorable! when i saw it i couldn’t get it off of my mind. i don’t doubt that my own hands would be smaller than theirs, well, besides chuuya that is (sorry)! this is also doubling as my hand headcanons whoops. anyways, thank you for the request anon! <3

Measuring Their Hands; Osamu Dazai, Chuuya Nakahara, and Suehiro Tecchou

Format: Scenarios

Osamu Dazai

“Come here for a moment,” you said as you looked at your boyfriend.

Dazai was currently sprawled out on the couch of your shared apartment, hogging all of the blankets he could possibly find. You were honestly worried that he might get overheated, but then again, it was Dazai after all. He had a knack for somehow managing to survive dire situations, so you knew that he would be fine.

“Why? I’m comfortable,” he whined. “How about you come over here!”

You rolled your eyes then got up from where you were sitting. You then sat down on the arm rest that Dazai was resting his head on with a soft sigh. After that you had started to dig around in the cocoon of blankets that Dazai wrapped himself in. Eventually after some trial and error, you managed to find his right hand. You quickly grabbed it and pulled it out of the blankets in victory.

“Found it!” You exclaimed.

Dazai looked at you questionably. “What are you up to?”

You didn’t respond to him.

In fact you silently flattened your hand and put it against Dazai’s. His bandaged hand was larger than yours, albeit not by a lot. Your finger tips had only managed to reach his middle knuckles. His hands were calloused, most likely from wielding fire arms often from his mafia days. It wasn’t unpleasant though.

“Your hands are bigger,” you simply stated.

Dazai raised a brow at you. “They are indeed. Maybe it’s because you’re so short!”

You clicked your tongue then playfully rolled your eyes. “I am not short.”

“But look at you! Your hands are clearly smaller than mine! Oh, it makes me want to protect you even more,” Dazai gushed.

“How romantic. Truly, you are my knight in shining armor,” you deadpanned.

Dazai chuckled. He then carefully took your hand into his. Afterwards Dazai then slowly brought your knuckles to his mouth, then gave it a small peck as he closed his eyes. He then looked up at you and gave you a smile.

“If I’m your knight, then I shall treat you like royalty, my love,” he said as he let go of your hand.

He then pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his blankets around you. He made sure that you were unable to move away from his tight hug as he spoke to you once more.

“I love you.”

Chuuya Nakahara

Today was one of Chuuya’s very rare days off. Therefore, the two of you were currently out at a restaurant. Chuuya had sought out this establishment because the reviews had said that their wine was delectable, and Chuuya didn’t want to miss out on this said wine.

He had brought you to a private booth much to your disliking. The two of you were holding hands, his pinky interlocked with yours. It was a very sweet gesture, but it made you think. Whose hands are were bigger?

Once the two of you sat down, you immediately grabbed his hand. You quickly took off one of his gloves and put it on your lap gently. You then flattened his palm alongside with yours and placed them together.

“What’re you doing?” Chuuya asked, a singular eyebrow raising.

“Measuring our hands, duh.”

You stared at his hand. Your hand was barely any smaller than his. Your finger tips reached his third knuckle; the one that was near his own finger tips. His fingers only had the smallest bit of callouses. He only really used his ability instead of weapons, so it was to be expected.

Despite all of this, his hands were on the softer side. It was comforting to touch his hand like this.

“Your hands are bigger than mine,” you said with a smile. “That’s weird. I thought that they’d be smaller than mine since you’re shorter than me.”

Chuuya groaned then interlaced your fingers together. He then brought your hands down to the table and held your hand gently. Afterwards Chuuya started to rub small circles with his thumb into your palm.

“Will you ever stop teasin’ me about my height?!” He asked.

“No, I don’t think so.”

You grabbed his glove off from your lap and brought it up to him. You then took your hand away from his grasp and put on his glove gently. Chuuya only stayed silent as he watched you do this, a small smile adorning his features.

The two of you stayed silent for a while until Chuuya eventually spoke up. “(Name)?”

“Hm?”

“Your tiny hands are adorable,” he said with a snicker.

You rolled your eyes. “They aren’t tiny.”

“Well they’re tiny compared to mine.”

“Only by a little bit!” You exclaimed.

“Uh huh, sure,” he said with a smirk.

“Chuuya!”

He let out a short chuckle then kissed your cheek. He then picked up your hand once more and held it gently. He acted as if your hand was made of glass—or maybe even a stack of cards piled up to make a house.

Chuuya then gave you a soft smile then started to speak once more. “I love you.”

Suehiro Tecchou

Currently, the two of you were out on patrol. With the current rise of crime in a certain district, you and your boyfriend were tasked to look around and make sure nothing illegal is happening. So far nothing noteworthy has happened besides Tecchou holding your hand rather tightly. It didn’t hurt, no, not at all. In fact it was rather comforting—you liked it.

When you eventually looked down at your interlaced fingers, you noticed that Tecchou’s hand was bigger than yours. Curious, you stopped walking and brought your intertwined hands up to your line of vision and stared at them for a moment.

“Hm?” Tecchou looked down at you. “Is something the matter?”

“No. Just flatten your hand real quick,” you said as you stopped holding his hand. You then flattened your own palm. “Please?”

Tecchou’s face remained indifferent as he did what he was told. He flattened his palm, then you put your hands together.

His hand was larger than yours by a long shot. It also had countless callouses all over, the most prominent being where he would normally hold his saber. Despite this though, they were still slightly soft. There were also a few small scars littered across his palm alongside his index and middle finger.

“Your hands are bigger than mine, ’Hiro,” you said with a small giggle.

His expression was still as indifferent as before once he spoke up. “I can see that.”

“Do you know what that means?”

“No.”

“It means that you have to hold my hands more often,” you spoke matter-of-factly.

“Why?”

“Because they make me feel safe, duh.”

You interlaced your hands together once more, then put them down back at your side. Tecchou then lightly squeezed your hand then started to walk once more. You of course followed him, albeit with a small grin on your face.

“What was the point of that?” He asked while looking forward.

“I was just curious to see how big your hand is compared to mine,” you said while looking up at him.

“That’s weird,” he muttered as he continued to walk. “Why would you want to do that?”

“Again, I was curious. Plus, you have no room to talk about weirdness. I saw you eat mini tomatoes with your strawberry shortcake last night.”

He tilted his head to the side a little bit. “But it was good?”

“Yeah… sure it was,” you said playfully as you rolled your eyes. You then got on the tip of your feet and kissed his petal markings. “I love you, Mr. Big Hands.”

“Don’t call me that please,” he said as he sighed. “And I love you too.”

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imraespace · 3 months ago

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THE FESTIVAL OF LIGHT so light up their world, it shall be enjoyed by everyone.

PAIRINGS: no pairings but includes sumeru characters GENRE: modern au but still present in sumeru NOTE: if there's anything wrong here please correct me!! WORD COUNT: 1.7k

"The spiritual victory of light over darkness, good over evil, and knowledge over ignorance."

"The time to destroy all our dark desires and thoughts, eradicate dark shadows and evils, and gives us the strength to carry on with our goodwill for the rest of the year."

"So.. can I use my sparkler to scare the evil away?"

Your eyes shifted to one of the kids present in your circle. A small smile formed on your face as you heard the question.

"Well.. yes you can-"

"CMON GUYS LET'S GO!"

"Oh.. at least they're in the spirit." You mumbled to yourself.

You rose from your seat and fixed your skirt. Your eyes lingered on the children, running away and enjoying the view of the sparklers in their hands. Just two minutes ago they were begging for some Diwali stories. Oh well!

"Y/N! You look so beautiful!"

Your attention on the children was moved as soon as you heard a new voice. Your head turned in the direction and noticed the elderly woman who stood right in front of you.

Her eyes shifted from your saree to your accessories, to your bindi. Admiring your beauty on the whole, giving you the warmest smile.

"Thank you ma'am," You replied, returning the smile. Your eyes wandered to her hand, actually to the item in her hand.

"Do you need help?" You asked, stretching out your hand. But to your surprise, the woman shook her head, yet still offering it to you.

"It's actually for you and your parents, your mother helped me once, this is my thanks." She explained, giving you the basket filled of sweets.

"Oh, thank you!"

You took the basket out of her hand and gave her yet another smile. Her eyes made their way onto your hand and offered a suggestion.

"If you want, I can offer to do your mehndi." Her body moved in the opposite direction, showing you a group of ladies who were conversing with each other while letting their mehndi dry.

Your eyes made their way back onto the woman and agreed to her offer, making your mini-departure and beginning your adventure back to your home, with sweets in hand.

The sun had already set, yet the city was not dark. It was lit up, beautiful lanterns everywhere, diyas being lit and placed at the entrances of homes. So your venture back home was well lit, not only with the lights but with the smiles of passersby and children outside who were enjoying the activities.

That elderly woman wasn't a stranger, in fact, everyone who's a local isn't strangers to each other. But that woman always offers gifts to your family every year, so it won't be shocking if your mother has a gift prepared for you to give the woman.

As your home was in view, your mother noticed you as she was opening the windows, in the hope of Mother Lakshmi finding her way inside to bless them with wealth and success.

"Y/N, you're back! Before you return back to the city, can you help me place the diyas around the house? And outside. Please!" Your mother informed you, opening the door for you.

You made your way inside and made it into the kitchen, greeting your father and witness the food on the table.

"I brought snacks, we can eat them later."

Your father nodded at your words, then asked a question.

"Are your friends still coming over?" He asked.

"Cyno and the others? Of course."

With those last words being spoken, your mini activity with your mother started, diyas placed around the house, more attraction for Mother Lakshmi.

Before you left the house once again, your mother gave you a basket of sweets to offer the elderly woman.

You made your way back to the city, gave the gift to the woman, and got your mehndi done as well! The ladies nearby invited you into their conversation as you let your hands dry.

In the end, once you were finished, you bid them goodbye and left.

On your mini walk, a certain someone caught your attention, she blended in with the children nearby. Talking about children, it's the group from earlier and upon noticing you, they invited you over.

"That looks amazing, good job guys!" You praised them. The group of children all came together to create rangoli, along with..

"Y/N?" A soft voice reached your ears.

"Nahida, hello." You greeted, bending a bit to reach her level, giving her a small pat on her head. Nahida wore a lehenga, a green one that complimented her eyes.

A small smile made its way onto her face as her eyes shifted from you and back to the children that surrounded her, witnessing the teamwork each kid put into creating the rangoli.

Nahida stood up from her spot and turned to face you.

"Is it time to go? I got caught up with them, I forgot about the invitation to your house." She started.

"No, it's not time, I'm just strolling and then I saw you!" You simply explained, causing the girl to nod at your words.

"Shall I join you?"

"Of course!"

You two then made your way deeper into the city, in hopes of maybe finding your friends along the way.

As you wished, the stroll with Nahida was indeed calming but in doing so, you met up with some familiar faces. That being Tighnari and Collei.

Upon seeing you both, Collei gave you two a cheerful wave as her face lit up. Tighnari noticed and began walking up, Collei slowly following behind.

"Is it time?" He asked. You shook your head no and asked a few questions.

"Have you seen the others?" You asked, though before you could've gotten an answer, Nilou came up from behind.

"I'm here!" She exclaimed, twirling in her saree. She gave you a tight hug, then turned you around, showing Cyno and Candace.

"Everyone's here!" You said, expressing your excitement with a bright smile and clasping your hands together.

"Since we're all together, won't it make sense we make our way back to your house?" Nahida asked, placing all the attention on her.

"Sure, we can." You replied.

The newly formed group of friends followed behind you as you all ventured back, that is.. Until something caught your eye, rather someone.

The group noticed the change in your behavior and stopped walking.

"Is something wrong?" Cyno asked, placing his hand on your shoulder.

You turned to face him, then your friends, and decided to change up the plans.

"Let's go back, but I have a suggestion to make."

"And that us?" Tighnari asked.

"I'll explain once we get back. let's go."

"May the lights of Diwali brighten your path and illuminate your life with peace and joy."

"Is everything ready?"

In your hands held a lantern, making your way with not only your friends but everyone you've talked to tonight, that elderly woman, the children, the ladies, and your parents, all holding diyas, lanterns, sweets, and tasty food.

The sight was wondrous, everyone came together yet the plan wasn't completed, not as yet.

You, being the first and the only person to notice, made your way to the dark and silent home, a bit far from the city's light. Silently, you rested the lantern on the floor and knocked on the door.

Knock!

"What do you want."

"For you to open up of course."

"Then you'll be waiting there all night long."

"You're still there aren't you..?"

"Mhm!"

Just then, you heard a sigh from the other side causing you to laugh a bit. You picked back up your lantern as he opened up the door, glaring at you.

"Why are you here? You're supposed to be enjoying the festival."

You smiled at the mention of the festival.

"I'm here to bring the festival to you Scaramouche."

"Why?"

"I saw you peeking in the darkness, I know you want to join in, but too scared to ruin it, is that what you're thinking?"

Indeed that is what he was exactly thinking. Yet he won't admit to that.

"Just go back." He ended, about to close the door but his eyes caught onto the light in the background, rather at how the light got closer..

Then it hit him.

"What are you.."

"Like I said, bringing the festival to you, everyone should enjoy the warmth of Diwali." You explained with a warm smile.

His eyes softened for a second yet he hid it with a sigh and walked off into the darkness, leaving his door open.

You accepted his silent invitation, before entering you hung the lantern up outside his home and walked in.

The darkness and silence were soon removed as everyone slowly made it inside. The children, along with Nahdia all came in with diyas, placing them around his home.

Your mother placed the food on the table, then made her way to open his windows.

Others with sweets and more food placed them on the table as well, joining the others as they all began to share them with everyone.

His eyes witnessed how slowly his house changed, light everywhere, friends and family inside and outside, all chatting and laughing.

You made your way towards him, holding a diya.

"Do you wanna decorate this?"

His eyes shifted onto you, and then asked a simple question.

"Why did you do this?"

You turned to face everyone, who had sparklers, who ate, and who were just enjoying the mood.

"Diwali is the triumph of light over darkness and good over evil. It's celebrated with everyone, I won't allow anyone to be alone in darkness at a time like this."

"Hm." His eyes lingered on the children who decided to create a rangoli in the middle of his living room.

Nahida walked up to him with a sparkler in her hand.

"This represent the light that dispels the darkness of ignorance and evil, and also.." She started, grabbing his hand and walked outside.

Everyone followed behind, all making their way outside.

The sound of fireworks caught the attentions as it lit up the sky.

"These also represent the light." She finished.

Nilou, along with a few younger girls all danced around with their sparklers. Cyno, Tighnari and Collei enjoyed the sight of the fireworks.

"Happy Diwali." You said, turning to face the duo.

"Happy Diwali"

"Do you still wanna decorate this diya?"

"Yeah sure, whatever.."

MASTERLIST || IMRAESPACE

NOTE: HAPPY DIWALI!! may it be filled with warmth and happiness! just for clarification, im not indian nor am i hindu, last time i did this i got mistaken as one and i felt bad in a way LMAO. i live in a multi-culture country so i kinda grew up with diwali and celebrated it by participating in the activities like decorating diyas n such. its one of my favorite time because its really nice to learn about other's beliefs and how they openly share it with others also the snacks r yummy but thats besides the point. those who celebrates it i hope you enjoy your 5 days of diwali!

oh heres a board of all the pins that inspired me along the way!

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arachnixe · 11 months ago

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Small Minded

They say there are powers—unfathomable and unnamed—buried deep within the earth. Boons and banes and spirits and seductions call to the ambitious, but I've never known of someone actually finding one until now.

What does one say to a dark sorceress on the cusp of her victory?

My knight, so loyal and brave, wheezes and gasps for breath within his broken armor. Our roguish friend, normally so quick witted and talkative, lies silent and unmoving in a pool of blood. I don't have the strength left to heal either of them.

"Let it sink in, Princess. I've won."

She has. I bow my head in defeat.

"The Godsblood is mine."

It hovers within her reach, an unshaped carmine gem formed of the crystallized blood of whatever forgotten god was buried here. The sickly sweet scent of its power, like rotting fruit, fills the air.

"With it, I shall wield ultimate power."

Yes, the power to remake the world according to her whim, to raise mountains from the sea or to sink cities into the abyss at her pleasure, perhaps even to rewrite the laws of space and time if she desires.

"At last, I will depose your father and rule all of Rutennia in his place!"

I jerk my head upright and stare at her in disbelief. "What?"

The sorceress Velle grins like an idiot. "You heard me, Princess. Your whole kingdom will be mine."

My face must betray my feelings, judging by the way her confidence falters at my reaction. "You've claimed a power like this, and all you can think to do with it is take over this kingdom?"

"Your father—"

"Yes. I know." I wave off her explanation, disinterested. "He didn't see your worth, you wanted to show us all, I get it, but if all you wanted to do was rule Rutennia, you could have just courted me and then poisoned my father!" I scrub at my face in frustration and suppress a scream. "What small-minded ambitions!"

That throws her off balance. "Small minded? I won! I'm getting everything I want!"

"And what you want," I retort, "is a single grain of sand on a beach." I ball my hands into fists and stalk toward her, outraged that my friends died for so little. "You are a cat who stole a siege engine to catch the mouse that once eluded you. You wouldn't even know what to do with the kingdom once you had it."

Velle barks an indignant laugh. "As if the king does!" She casts a hand toward me, magically halting my approach. "No, he has others handle all the administrative duties so he can simply bask in the worship of his subjects!"

"And when the people don't worship you?" I ask through gritted teeth, "because trade with Melland and Istow has completely halted without their kings' cousin sitting our throne?"

"I'LL MAKE THEM!" She makes a tugging motion in the air, yanking me forward to shout the words in my face. "With the Godsblood I can make my subjects dance like puppets at my command! They will all kneel before my throne."

This close to the gem, the scent fills my senses. It leaves me feeling lightheaded, giddy, almost delirious, even. It draws an inappropriate giggle out of me before I can retort. "Build a doll out of cloth and sticks. Make it kneel. Put worshipful words in its mouth. It will mean just as much. Personally, I got tired of playing with dolls at age eight."

Her face reddens. "You think you can trick me into giving up my goals? You think you can convince me this power is worthless?"

"Worthless?" I cackle. "The power of a dead god, worthless? No, only the things you imagine doing with it are worthless. You want to know what you should do with all that power? I'll tell you."

She leans forward, obviously curious.

"Istow's ports give it mastery of the sea and trade we need," I explain, as if to a child, "but we don't need them if we bring the sea to us. Flood their plains, drown their whole nation if you'd like, but take that bargaining chip away."

Some dim, distant part of me says I shouldn't give her ideas, but every inhale of the intoxicating aroma of Godsblood fills my mind with visions of what that power can do. Why can't she see it as clearly as I do?

"Melland," I continue, "is weak but well defended by the terrain. Pull the mountains down onto their capital, swallow their impregnable fortress in a new chasm, and their resources become ours."

Velle's eyes light up with understanding. "Yes, yes, you're right!"

No, no, no, even I'm still thinking too small. Like a petty warlord with a mere weapon. But this is no weapon, it's the power of a god. I take a deep breath and focus. I need to be thinking like a god.

"No, why set our sights on conquering our neighbors," I muse aloud, "when there's a whole world out there to reshape? We don't need what they have. It's not a zero sum game anymore."

Judging by her face, I've lost Velle again, but I don't care. My thoughts race. With every breath I take, my vision crystallizes.

She doesn't need to understand. I don't speak for her to hear; I speak because I must. "A perfect world, answering only to me. Every river, every pebble, the mountains and the seas, the very stars in the sky, all mine…"

"No." The sorceress shakes her head and tightens her grip on the magical restraints holding me in place. "The Godsblood is mine. I found it. I got here first. You lost."

She sounds so petulant, so small. Velle doesn't understand power, not really. She's merely a spurned court magician who deluded herself into thinking she was more, not someone with the will to rule.

And this is no inert stone. The heart's blood of a god demands to be wielded. It demands the will to wield it.

It was mine the moment I decided it was mine.

Without transition, the stone is already in my hand. A twitch of a thought tears Velle's restraints to pieces, no more than a cobweb caught on a boot.

She's screaming, shouting something, flinging spells my way, but my attention falls instead upon the crumpled figures of my dear companions.

With a thought, I am no longer next to her. I stand beside my knight, seeing him inside and out. His body is a trifle to mend, and like wiping dust from a windowsill, I smooth away the injuries. With little effort, I scan the thoughts within his mind, and… oh, what useful secrets lurking within! Many ways to control this one if he chooses to resist me.

My thief is dead. I refuse to abide that for the only one I recall who could consistently make me laugh, and a god deserves a jester even more than a king, right? All it takes is a touch to reignite the spark of life and bid the soul return to its body; funny, I always imagined resurrection to be a more difficult process.

Last of all, my sorceress. I don't need to read her thoughts to recognize her profound denial of the reality of this situation. She flings chaotic bolts of fire and lightning and ice at me, howling threats and curses that mean very little.

If I want her as my high priestess, I should impress her more.

We stand in the middle of a great empty ribcage, and yes, I think a god-bone crown would suit me. Brittle ribs bend like supple grasses, shrink and weave themselves into an ornate crown to rest on my head. I crush the Godsblood gem in my fist and direct the shards to implant themselves in pleasing patterns within the bone.

Velle ceases her assault. I watch her delusions melt away upon witnessing me destroy the gem. The light of understanding dawns within her mind that my power is entirely mine, never to be stolen. A god-bone collar snakes around her neck as gently as a princess's gloved hand, and I can taste her complete surrender.

The whole world also aches for my touch, but it will have to wait just a little longer for my design to perfect it. There are many more boons and banes buried within this graveyard world, and I'll need every last one if I wish to extend my reach beyond even the stars.

And my first three worshippers still need training.

#empty spaces #my writing #corruption #princesses #gods #the new goddess

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vexwerewolf · 5 months ago

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To His Granite Lordship Ferdinand-Cannamos (@ktbofficial) of the House of Stone,

Cousin, I hope this missive finds you well.

I implore your forgiveness that I did not convey proper congratulations on your appointment to the position of official Karrakin representative to the omninet in person. I have been travelling to Throne Karrakis these past few months, and – as is usual – uncle Hyderad (Unshakeable Be His Foundation, Unyielding Be His Resolve, etc. etc. etc.) has made the entire thing difficult for me.

I must confess, cousin, that I feel your behaviour falls short of the lofty responsibilities such a grand and noble station entails. I must again beg your forgiveness for critiquing you in a public letter this way, but as uncle always told me – at length, with glee, and often (as you may recall) in front of hundreds of dinner guests – that a lesson attached to a public humiliation is a lesson that will be remembered the rest of a man’s life.

Remember, upon your shoulders rests the unenviable duty of presenting the face of the Karrakin to the greater galaxy, and it is by your words that all of us – from the proudest Knight Vitreous of Ispahsalar to the most desperate refugee of Bo – shall be judged. When the citizens of Union listen for the Baronies, they will hear your words. Against the honeyed words of Harrison’s Steward Council and the poison that hides beneath their sweetness, you are our bulwark. Yet you are stubborn, brusque, contemptuous, intolerant. You are quick to accuse and slow to admit fault. Since you will brook no critique from outsiders, it must fall to a fellow noble of your House to deliver it.

I know that like many of our House, you are proud. You are unyielding, like the Stone from which we take our namesake. We of Stone have some right to be proud, no doubt, for who else in history could stand against Tyran of Delamar? Laugh in the face of his threats? Fight him to a standstill? So too are you proud of the Baronies in their totality. Again, there is no error in that, for who, truly, could look at what we have achieved and yet not feel some small satisfaction?

But stone is also inflexible, and beyond any other flaw that individual rulers or Houses have laboured under, inflexibility has been the creeping sickness that has doomed us time and again. Was it not inflexibility that led us to underestimate the Armory’s new technology? Was it not inflexibility that lost us Rosegift, Underthrone, Stone Harbor and Odeland? Was it not inflexibility that made us treat those of the Ludran Underground like slaves rather than siblings?

The Baronies are more than the Hagiographs, and the Hagiographs are not free from sin. Was it not the Hagiographs that destroyed the Pilgrim, throwing us into a war with Union for which we were totally unprepared? Was it not the Hagiographs that pushed us to war with Harrison Armory, then lost us a generation of nobles – and the Stonelord themself? And if we may share in the bounty of Ludra at its height, how can the House of Stone elude responsibility for the abuses that led to the uprising of the Ungratefuls? Yes, it was House Ludra that failed them, but they were House of Stone too, and reducing them did not erase our responsibility.

I shall leave you with a reminder of our culture’s classics. Do you remember the words of the playwright Montague-Adellian, in “The Witch of Magritte?”

Ennio-Altia: By what strange Virtue conjurest thou, that in thy family’s victories thou exalt, yet for their defeats shed not a single tear?

Yond-Cassius: Fie, slanderer, keep thy tongue still, lest I still it for thee.

Ennio-Altia: Wilt thou for plaudits beg when the sun shines, yet curse the Magus when it rains?

Strength in Stone,

Lord Atreyu-Cannamos of the House of Stone

P.S. (For those beyond the boundaries of our Baronies, or those within whom have not had the luxury of studying theatre, Adellian was a playwright of the House of Glass famed mostly for his critique of other Houses. The Witch of Magritte was a lampoon of the House of Stone, which he cleverly disguised by casting its heroes as scions of Stone and its villains as scions of Glass. His intent was that the House of Stone could not ban it without insulting themselves. Of course, we banned it anyway, which of course only made the play more popular, and proved his point about our House’s choleric temperament.)

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #karrakin trade baronies #ktb #atreyu cannamos #in character

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skyeslittlecorner · 1 year ago

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IT'S TIME TO CELEBRATE! KING OF BABYGIRLS IS CHOSEN!

Let me contribute to this competition. As one of the people whose brain was rotten and taken over, let me be the (self-proclaimed) herald of victory.

First, a little kiss for Zagan, Sitri and Foras just because I’m biased and want to kiss my personal babygirls. Also, a huge kiss and a basket of delicacies served by the maids for Amon, and a salute to his nation. We carried out your will, my lord.

Now it's time to recognize everyone who deserves it! After hard battles and bloody fights, let's meet our winners.

Paimon stans, it was an honor to fight with you. Therefore, despite the lack of a podium, you deserve to be honorably mentioned.

Special mention - Paimon

"4th place? What a shaaaame." Paimon leaned in when you said you wanted to put an honorary sticker on his horn. "I'd rather keep it foreeever. Now I have to be caaareful when I wash my haaair! Maybe you can heeelp meee~"

It is true that the inhabitants of Hades are immortally loyal to their beautiful king. No wonder he is on the podium with us.

3th place - Leviathan

You give him a medal, definitely not saying he took third place, unless you want to hang from the ceiling and watch other competitors being hunted down by unspeakable horrors. “You called me what? What a ridiculous idea.” But obviously he likes it and hopes that in addition to a medal, the winner will also receive a kiss. At least.

One of the favorites from the very beginning. Deservedly, Eligos, one of the cutest devils, takes second place.

2nd place - Eligos

“Ohh, only second place?” You almost can't stand his eyes of a kicked kitten, so you gently pat his head and stroke soft hairs. His mood immediately improves, and he catches your hand with a sweet, mischievous smile. "Come on, you have to reward me now." A whole day of cuddles, shopping, eating and your undivided attention awaits!

And, at last. Kneels down. Allow me to pay tribute to our lord and ruler, the one and only sitting on the throne.

1st place - Andrealphus

You caught him off guard. He was playing with his phone, lying in bed, long hair untied and spread picturesquely on the sheets, T-shirt lifted over a chiseled stomach. You rarely saw this beautiful, lazy side of him, and almost forgot what you came for. “I have a surprise for you, my king.” He turned to you. Not that he has to, because he couldn't see you anyway, and yet always tried to face you. “Me?” “Let me serve you, as you shall sit on your throne.” He raised an eyebrow in amusement and got up, but didn’t ask. Silky hair got tangled in the horns, so you parted it gently and placed on his back. Each time you scratched him a little harder. First between the shoulders, then you ran your fingers over the muscles that you couldn't see through the material, but felt under your palm. "We had a little competition." You finally sat down on his lap so he could touch your face, feel your smile under his fingers. “Who among you, devil nobles and kings, is the greatest babygirl. It was a vote, several rounds, like a full-fledged cup. Hundreds of people took part!” “Sounds like fun.” “And you won.” His facial expression didn't change for a bit. “I what?” “You won! We voted and cheered and were with you every round. Congratulations!” You kissed him, but he needed another second to process what he heard. His eyes widened, and his fingers twitched on your face. He cupped your cheeks, stroking your lips and eyes with his thumbs, checking to see if you were joking. “How? You said it was hundreds of people. We have never met.” “But they know you in their own way. You're intelligent, kind and gentle… and you know what? Let's let all those who love you have their say. ” You started reading comments, hashtags, and all the happy nonsense you produced during this time. At first, he couldn't believe it, but you wouldn't lie to him. He hugged you tightly as you scrolled through Tumblr. You were having such a great time, and he felt the warmth spreading more and more inside him. So many people. So many kind words. He, who never had family nor friends, who was not used to closeness, always lonely, always depressed, listened to so many praises and admiration about himself. He was grateful that you included him in the vote. Victory? He would never have thought of it. So many people were with him. So many people loved him. He never knew them, never would, but he wanted to say thanks, to touch and know their faces, to hug each and any of them. All the emotions bottled inside felt down with tears of joy. “I would like to repay all of you somehow.” His voice became hoarse with emotions. Another kiss landed on his lips, as you brushed away long hair that had fallen onto his handsome face. “Do not even think about it. It's our way of saying thank you for who you are. And that's all we want you to do for us. Just be, and be yourself.”

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb andrealphus #whb paimon #whb leviathan #whb eligos #whb most babygirl polls #yes I had it prepared beforehand and you see it only because Andrea won #long live the king!#it was so fun tho op had such a great idea

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srbachchan · 8 months ago

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DAY 5946

Jalsa, Mumbai May 29/30, 2024 Wed/Thu 1:53 AM

🪔 ,

May 30 .. birthday greetings to Ef Mahmud Chowdhury from London 🇬🇧 .. and Ef Heena Bhambhani .. 🙏🏻🚩❤️

work done for the cause of the general .. for the hopeful understanding of why it is being done .. of the desire to be assured that it may make some sense in the execution of some of the pointers spelt out ..

and then some more .. more ideas that have not been covered and not been drawn in the creative ..

I work for the campaign on Road Safety .. to be able to personally share some of my experiences on how this should be designed and brought to the people in general that have the right and privilege to use roadways , vehicles and the discipline and understanding that road safety in its execution may bring about a better discipline ..

It can never be a statement .. it must contain the psychological temperament of the viewer and the listener .. when you command for understanding it is often taken in the wrong spirit .. a lot needs to be put into the reason for the Campaign and the essential pointers that all motorists and pedestrians must believe and understand for a better temperament and safety on our roads ..

it shall be a long drawn battle .. but like all else, when the cause is understandable .. when the cause is right , then all else falls into place ..

It needs a continuous rendering ..

Talking about it in a formality and then forgetting it as 'job done' is the worst status of its bearing .. you have to persist , persevere , and determine a will that eventually shall work for the benefit of the reason it was done ..

So yes .. I commit myself to the fruition of the campaign .. and shall persist to the best for its victory ..

hand on heart to set the nature for the purity of the mission ..

salutations for them that support and volunteer to assist in the need ..

.. and have the great pleasure of my cute sweet colleague in front of the camera .. tresses and all .. 🤣

yes the moments in pictures are repeated .. for little girls be the sweetest of all ..

and the thoughts go back to that masterpiece of a film GIGI .. and the song

'Thank Heaven for little girls'

the song sung in its most inimitable rendition, by the great Maurice Chevalier .. and starring the most handsome man of the times Louis Jourdan !!

Ah .. those were the days my friends .. sadly lost in the speedometer of modernity and time ..

and my gratitude to the enviable Avinash Gowarikar for his photographic senses and the ability to capture you and make you look grand .. despite the flaws of age !!

I leave my liege

liege

"Since modern populations often ignore aristocracy (except in the case of tabloid coverage), many words once used for royalty are now unusual and obscure. Such is the case with liege. If you refer to someone as "my liege" you are probably playing a game.

Ah, the Medieval era, where we find the word liege as we know it, a term used by underlings for the lord of their land. The word was probably of Germanic origin, derived from the Medieval Latin laeticus. In an interesting etymological twist, the word at one time meant a leader of a band of free men — pretty much the opposite of its eventual meaning as a feudal lord. The word is not used much today, except in jest (see Python, Monty)."

Amitabh Bachchan

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summerclementine27 · 5 months ago

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Sign of The Times 🌹

Summary: Harry Styles is a Roman General who led his legions to many victories. He was favoured by the Emperor and known as an honourable General. Everyone also knows that he loves his wife, Y/N, more than anything, more than victory even, and dreams of seeing her again.

Time and place: Roman Empire sometime between 180 - 192 AD

warnings: bit of smut, breeding, and also old timey vibes due to roman era (so the smut is written in a funky old timey way but i decided to post it anyway).

notes: this is part three of my series of Harry Styles one shots that are inspired by his first album, I’m not doing the stories in order of the tracklist, and I also know that I am changing the meanings of the songs to fit the stories so for instance, sign of the times is about a mother who is dying while giving birth, but I changed it to be about a wife who is urging her husband to come back.

- pics of Harry or AI from Pinterest and the inspiration for this fic is gladiator lol.

The dust of Germania still clung to my skin, mixing with the iron scent of blood that had dried on my tunic. The battlefield had been ours, a victory to be sung by bards and etched into the annals of Rome. But as my men celebrated, raising goblets of wine to their lips, my thoughts wandered far from the camps and the spoils of war.

I could feel the ache in my side where the enemy's blade had found its mark—a shallow wound, they said. Easily mended with time and rest. Yet I craved neither the salves of the medics nor the comforts of the Roman city.

My thoughts were with Y/N, the woman who had waited for me through the years of war, who had kept my heart safe even as my body waded through the carnage of battle. The memory of her letters, the soft parchment that had borne her words across the miles, was a balm to my weary soul.

I cared for nothing as much as I cared for her, for all I prayed for during these years of battle was her safety. “Blessed father, watch over my wife with a ready sword. Whisper to her that I live only to hold her again, for all else is dust and air.” I recited every night, yearning to be in my ethereal wife's embrace once more, where the weight of the world would melt away in the serenity of her seraphic presence.

One of her last letters had arrived not long before the battle. I could still hear her voice in the words she had penned, a voice that had carried me through the darkest nights. I drew the letter from my belt, the parchment worn from too many readings, and let my eyes trace the familiar lines:

“My dearest Harry,” the letter began, “as I write this, I can feel the sun warming my skin, and I think of you, far away in the cold lands of the north. I miss you with every breath I take, and I pray for your safe return each night before I sleep. The fields here are flourishing, the olive trees heavy with fruit, but without you, this bounty feels hollow. The land awaits your return, as do I. I long for the day when you will return to me, when I can hold you in my arms once more, and we can live in peace, away from the horrors of war.”

Her words were sweet, like honeyed nectar upon the lips of a lover, gentle and soothing at first. Yet, as I read on, they grew earnest and urging, the ink heavy with her profound concern. My eyes were drawn irresistibly to the portion of her letter that held the deepest weight for my heart:

“Yet I know, as you read these words, your soul is entrenched in the depths of war, I understand that your mind is consumed with thoughts of victory, that your heart beats with the pulse of battle. But remember, my love, that while you fight for the glory of Rome, Rome shall endure, as she always has. It is you who may not, and it is you I fear to lose.”

Her words were like a gentle whisper, coaxing me back to the world beyond the battlefield. "I beg you, take care of yourself and do not tempt death, for you cannot bribe the door on your way to the sky, you cannot offer coin to the gatekeeper of the heavens, nor sway him with silver as you ascend. You look good down here on this mortal realm anyway. Do not die for Rome, live for her.”

“What shall become of us if we never learn? We have been here before, me tending to the fields of Hispania and you running from the arrows and swords, yet the two of us with the same fate; always caught stuck and running from the bullets. I know what the emperor demands of you, and I know you have led many battles to victory. You hesitate to leave, but you must, my love; you must find your way back to me. Just stop your crying, for this is but a sign of the times.

Stop your weeping, and have the time of your life. Break through the atmosphere of war and bloodshed, things are pretty good from here, Remember, everything will be alright.

Come home to me, my love, come back.”

I closed my eyes, letting the words wash over me, a balm for my weary soul. Come home to me, my love. The phrase echoed in my mind, a mantra that had sustained me through the darkest moments of the campaign. It was these words that had driven me to push forward, to fight for Rome but also to fight for my retirement. To earn the rest of my life back and spend it with my divine wife.

As I rode back to the camp, the letter tucked safely away once more, I repeated the words to myself. “Come home to me, my love.” It became a rhythm, a beat that matched the thudding of my heart, the pounding of my horse’s hooves against the ground. Each step brought me closer to her, to the life we had built together, and to the future that awaited us.

The camp was abuzz with the clamour of soldiers and the scent of roasting meat as I entered, my body still bearing the marks of battle and the weight of victory. The Emperor, draped in his imperial regalia, stood amidst his entourage, his presence commanding the respect of every man within sight. I approached with the measured steps of one who has fought hard and earned his rest.

He turned his gaze upon me, his eyes as sharp as the glint of his ornate armor. “General Styles,” he intoned, his voice carrying the authority of the throne, “when was the last time you were home?”

I stood tall, the weight of his question a heavy mantle upon my shoulders. “Two years, two hundred and sixty-four days, and this very morning,” I answered, my tone steady and resolute. The Emperor’s eyes narrowed slightly, perhaps in surprise or contemplation, as he considered my words.

His gaze lingered on me with a mixture of respect and expectation. “You have led our legions with great skill and valor, General. Rome still has need of such a commander. I urge you to remain in your esteemed position, to continue guiding our armies with the same honor and prowess you have so richly displayed.”

A solemn silence fell over the tent, the air thick with the weight of his request. I took a deep breath, my thoughts drifting back to the letter from my beloved wife, and to the quiet promise of peace that awaited me.

“Your Excellency,” I began, my voice steady but imbued with the gravity of my decision, “I have fought and bled for Rome, and I have served with every ounce of my strength. But my heart and soul yearn for a different path now. I have earned this respite, this time to lay down my sword and return to the life I once knew.”

The Emperor regarded me with a measure of frustration, his fingers drumming upon the armrest of his gilded throne. “You have been a pillar of our military might, General. To leave now, at the zenith of your glory, seems a disservice to the empire that has benefited so greatly from your leadership.”

I met his gaze with unwavering resolve, feeling the echoes of my wife’s words in my heart. “It is not disservice, but rather a fulfillment of a promise I made to myself and to her. I seek not glory nor honor from further battles, but the simple joy of returning to my wife and the life we dream of. My time as a general has been an honor, but it is time for me to embrace a different chapter, one of peace and companionship.”

The Emperor’s expression softened, a flicker of understanding—or perhaps resignation—crossing his features. “Very well, General Styles,” he conceded, his voice carrying a note of reluctant admiration. “If it is your wish to retire and seek solace in the embrace of your beloved, then it shall be granted. Rome’s gratitude will follow you, and your legacy will endure.”

I bowed deeply, the weight of my decision finally lifting from my shoulders. As I walked away, I felt a sense of anticipation and relief wash over me, knowing that soon I would return to the fields of Hispania, to the life and love that awaited me.

"My lord," one of the younger centurions approached me as I prepared to leave camp, a bandage in hand. "We must bind your wound."

I waved him off, though I knew the pain would only worsen on the long ride home. "I'll let my wife take care of me," I said, the words tasting sweet on my tongue, like the promise of harvest in a fertile field.

The journey back to Hispania was slow, each day stretching out like the endless plains we crossed. My thoughts were full of her—Y/N, my beloved, my anchor amidst the storms of war. The land of our villa in Hispania, a sprawling expanse of olive trees and vineyards, awaited me. But it was her presence, her tender touch, that I yearned for with each passing mile.

As my horse’s hooves drummed against the sun-baked earth, I imagined her in the fields, the wind tugging at her hair as she worked, her hands—those skilled, delicate hands—tending to the earth as she did to me. I could see her smile, that secret curve of her lips that had the power to unravel me more than any barbarian’s sword.

Finally, the fields of our home came into view, the golden light of evening casting a warm glow over the land. My heart quickened as I urged my horse forward, a boyish impatience overtaking me.

As I dismounted my horse and set foot on the familiar ground of our estate, I saw her standing there—my beloved, just as I had envisioned, her figure framed by the setting sun, a basket of olives in her arms.

The moment our eyes met, a wave of joy surged through me, overpowering the aches and weariness of battle. Her face, illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun, radiated a warmth and love that I had sorely missed.

Without hesitation, she ran to me, her movements swift and graceful. The air seemed to hum with the electricity of our reunion. As she enveloped me in her embrace, I was struck by the intoxicating scent of her—lavender mingled with the faint, sweet aroma of the earth, a perfume that spoke of home and tranquility. It was as if every hardship and wound I bore dissolved in the presence of her love.

Her arms, tender and gentle, clung to me with a fierce affection. I could feel the softness of her skin against my own, a stark contrast to the roughened textures of my armor and the hardened scars of war. Her touch was both soothing and electric, a balm for my bruised soul.

As our lips met, her kiss was a sweet, fervent promise, a bridge between the years of separation. Yet, as I pressed closer, a sharp twinge from the wound on my side made me wince. She noticed instantly, her eyes filled with concern.

“Harry,” she breathed, her voice soft and filled with an anguish that mirrored my own. Her fingers, delicate and gentle, brushed against the tender spot on my side. “You’re hurt…”

“It’s nothing,” I murmured, my voice barely more than a whisper as I drew her even closer. I buried my face in the curve of her neck, inhaling deeply. The scent of her, the very essence of comfort and love, was a haven amidst the chaos of my return. “Nothing that your touch cannot heal.”

She led me inside, her movements tender and deliberate as if each step was meant to convey her deep affection and concern. The grand hall, though warmly lit by the flickering glow of the hearth, could not compare to the solace I found in her presence. As I sank into a plush chair beside the roaring fire, the heat from the flames did little to ease the persistent ache in my chest that only her touch could truly soothe.

I watched her with a heart full of gratitude as she worked with quiet diligence, her hands gentle yet skilled as she unwrapped the makeshift bandage and began to clean the wound. Her brow furrowed in concentration, each touch and movement imbued with a mixture of love and worry that spoke volumes of her care.

“You should have let the medics tend to you,” she chided softly, her voice a tender reprimand laced with concern rather than anger. The chiding was a balm, soothing and familiar, reminding me of the times we had shared before the endless battles.

“And miss the chance to be in your care?” I replied, my voice hushed but earnest. I reached up, my hand cradling her cheek, my thumb gently caressing the delicate curve. “I’d rather bleed out.”

Her lips curled into a small, affectionate smile despite her worry. She shook her head, her eyes reflecting a mixture of exasperation and adoration. “You’re too stubborn for your own good, General.”

“For Rome, perhaps,” I said, my thumb brushing tenderly against her skin, “but not for you.”

Once she was satisfied with the bandage, carefully wrapping it with a practiced hand, I drew her into my lap. The firelight danced in her eyes, casting a warm glow that made her seem even more ethereal. Her body fit perfectly against mine, the familiar curves and warmth a reminder of all that I had missed. As our eyes met, the hunger in mine was mirrored by the tender longing in hers.

“I’ve been gone too long,” I whispered, my lips finding their way to her neck. I trailed kisses along her soft skin, savoring the sweetness of her closeness. “I have missed you more than words can convey.”

Her hands wove into my hair, fingers trembling slightly as she tilted her head back, offering me more of herself. “And I you,” she whispered, her voice a soft melody that seemed to float between us, a song of longing and love that had played in my dreams during our separation.

I lifted her effortlessly, cradling her in my arms as I carried her towards our bed—the same one we had shared since our wedding night, a sanctuary of our love and devotion. The silks beneath us felt cool and luxurious as I laid her down, the gentle moonlight streaming through the windows, casting a silvery glow that highlighted the exquisite beauty of her form.

As I undressed her with a reverence that bordered on worship, I whispered against her lips, my voice a soft murmur filled with longing and affection. “I have won many battles,” I said, my fingers tracing the curves of her body with a tender touch, as if trying to memorize every line and contour. “But none so sweet as the victory of coming home to you.”

Her hands, delicate yet determined, moved to the laces of my tunic, undoing them with a familiar urgency that made my heart race. “Then claim your victory,” she breathed, her voice trembling with a mix of desire and anticipation.

I lifted her into my arms, cradling her with a gentleness that belied the strength I had honed on the battlefield. As I carried her to our bed, my heart pounded not from the exertion, but from the overwhelming love I felt for her. The silk sheets, cool beneath us, seemed to whisper promises of solace and intimacy as I laid her down.

The moonlight streaming through the windows cast a soft, silvery glow upon her, making her skin shimmer like alabaster. I gazed at her with a deep, aching adoration, my eyes tracing the graceful lines of her form. Her beauty was both a balm and a flame, soothing the wounds of my soul and igniting a fierce, tender hunger within me.

I began by brushing my lips against hers, savoring the sweetness of her kiss as if it were the nectar of the gods. The taste of her was intoxicating, a blend of warmth and familiarity that made my heart swell. I lingered there, lost in the softness of her lips, my hands gently caressing her face, committing every detail of her to memory.

Slowly, I trailed kisses down her neck, my lips lingering on her pulse point. The sensation of her warm skin beneath my mouth was a caress to my senses, and I felt the urgency of our reunion deepen with every touch. Her breath quickened, mingling with mine, as I moved lower, pressing my lips to the delicate curve of her collarbone.

With trembling fingers, I worked at the laces of her dress, the fabric white and pure, reminiscent of the gown she had worn on our wedding day. As I loosened it, the dress fell away, revealing the soft, flawless skin beneath. My gaze was ravenous yet reverent, taking in every inch of her with a fervor that spoke of my adoration and longing.

I kissed her shoulders with a devotion that made each touch a silent vow. My lips traveled down her arms, leaving a trail of tender kisses that made her shiver with delight. Each kiss was an offering, a testament to the depth of my love for her. As I reached her breasts, I pressed my lips to the soft curves, my tongue exploring with a reverence that bordered on worship.

My kisses continued their journey down her stomach, lingering at the gentle rise and fall of her ribs, tracing the lines of her hips. I marveled at the warmth and softness of her skin, my hands following the path my lips had taken, reverently mapping every contour. The sensation of her skin beneath my touch was a heady mix of comfort and desire.

When I finally reached her most intimate place, I paused, my breath coming in ragged whispers. My heart raced with a powerful mix of longing and adoration. The moment was charged with an intensity I had yearned for during the long years apart, and I could feel the heat of her skin beneath my lips.

With a deep, reverent kiss, I pressed my lips against her, my tongue gently exploring the softness and warmth of her. Her taste was intoxicating, and the sensation made my entire body shiver with pleasure. I heard her gasp, a soft, breathless sound that urged me on.

Her hands gripped the sheets, and I could feel her hips moving subtly, seeking more of the contact she craved. "Harry," she moaned softly, her voice a desperate whisper of desire.

I looked up at her, my eyes filled with devotion and love. "You feel so incredible," I murmured, my voice thick with emotion. "I want you to know just how much I adore every part of you."

She responded with a breathless sigh, her body arching instinctively towards me. "Please, don't stop," she pleaded, her voice trembling with anticipation.

My kisses became more fervent, turning into reckless licks, my movements ever so insistent as I reveled in the sweet, warm taste of her. The sounds of our pleasure filled the room, a symphony of soft moans and urgent whispers that only deepened my desire.

I was consumed with a profound longing for her, a desire that had only grown more fervent over the long years apart. Every moment of our separation had amplified my need to show her the depth of my affection, to make her experience the boundless pleasure that only I could bestow. I was keenly aware of the passage of time and wondered if she had discovered any means to reach such ecstatic heights as I would now bring her. The thought of her satisfaction, the notion of her feeling pleasure as intensely as I had imagined, drove me to the brink of my restraint.

With my touch, I sought to awaken her senses, my fingers caressing her with an ever-gentle firmness, the warmth of my hands mingling with her soft skin. My other hand began a tender exploration, slipping slowly, reverently, into her most cherished sanctuary. Each movement was deliberate, intended to elicit the utmost response from her.

“You like that, my dearest?” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion and desire, my breath hot against her ear.

“Yes, I do,” she replied, her voice a melody of pleasure and anticipation, her breath catching in soft gasps.

“I am determined to make you feel nothing but bliss,” I continued, my heart pounding with the intensity of my commitment. “I wish to taste and honor this sacred chamber of Venus, to give you pleasure that will leave you breathless and yearning.”

I leaned closer, my lips finding their way to her most intimate folds. With tender, loving care, I began to explore her, each kiss a testament to my devotion, each touch a silent vow of my love. My goal was to bring her to the pinnacle of delight, to ensure that every sensation was as exquisite and overwhelming as possible, so that she might feel the depth of my longing and the fullness of my return.

In the quiet sanctuary of our shared chamber, a question lingered on my lips, charged with both tenderness and longing. “Did you pleasure yourself while I was gone” I inquired, my voice a gentle murmur.

Her reply came softly, laden with devotion and a hint of wistfulness. “No, my love. I awaited your return.”

Her words stirred something profound within me, an awakening of emotions that had lain dormant through the years of separation. I felt a deep, aching desire to make amends for all the time lost, to bestow upon her the pleasure that had been denied to both of us.

“I yearn for you to find your release, my dearest Y/N,” I said, my voice trembling with fervent intensity. “Release it all, love.”

As her body trembled with the aftershocks of her climax, I could feel the shudder of her release against my tongue. The sweetness of her pleasure was intoxicating, a testament to the depth of our connection. In that moment, I knew that we both craved something more profound, a union that would fulfill the yearning that had grown between us over the years.

With a fervent determination, I slowly withdrew, my breath ragged and my heart pounding with a mix of longing and anticipation. I positioned myself above her, our eyes meeting in a gaze filled with mutual desire and unspoken promises. The need to be fully united with her, to deepen our connection, surged within me.

Her gaze was filled with trust and desire, and I moved with a tenderness that spoke of my deep affection and longing. Slowly, deliberately, I entered her, feeling the warmth and softness envelop me and savoring the way she wrapped around me, the way she sighed my name as if it were a prayer.

“Harry,” she moaned, and I grew concerned, fearing that the unfamiliarity of my touch after so long might be causing her discomfort.

“Are you alright, my love?” I murmured, my voice low and tender, brushing a lock of hair from her face. Her eyes met mine, filled with a mix of pain and yearning.

“Just... a bit,” she replied, her voice trembling with the effort to contain her emotions.

I continued to move with gentle persistence, my hands exploring her body, seeking to soothe her discomfort. As I found a rhythm, she began to relax, her moans growing more fervent, more eager. The shift from discomfort to pleasure was evident in the way her body responded, and I felt a deep satisfaction in knowing that I was bringing her the release she had longed for.

“Tell me, my love,” I whispered, pressing my forehead to hers as we moved together, “how does it feel?”

“It feels... so much better,” she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders as her body arched beneath me. “Harry, yes…”

“I want to give you more,” I said, my voice rough with emotion. “A family, a future... I want to watch you swell with our child, to retire from the battlefield and spend my days here, with you.”

Her breath hitched at my words, and her eyes shone with a mix of desire and longing. “Yes, Harry… I want that too,” she whispered, her voice a melody of affection and need.

As we continued, I found a rhythm that was both passionate and tender, the connection between us deepening with every movement. I kissed her lips, my hands roaming over her body, savoring the softness and warmth of her skin. Her eyes fluttered closed as she lost herself in the sensation, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer intimacy of our union.

“I will plant my seed in you,” I vowed, my voice filled with raw emotion. “And you will carry our legacy. Our child will grow strong in your womb, just as our love has grown in this land.”

Her climax hit with a shuddering intensity, her body tightening around me as she cried out my name. The sound was both a release and an invitation, and I followed her over the edge, spilling into her with a groan that echoed my deepest feelings. In that moment, I imagined the life we would create together, the child that would be born of our union.

As we lay entwined in the soft embrace of our bed, the flickering candlelight cast a warm glow over our bodies. The silks beneath us were cool and comforting, a stark contrast to the heat of our passionate union. The scent of her, a delicate blend of lavender and the earthiness of our garden, filled the air and enveloped me, mingling with the aroma of our shared pleasure.

Her skin felt like silk against my fingertips as I traced lazy patterns across her shoulders and down her sides. Her breathing was slow and deep, a soft rhythm that matched the steady beat of my heart. Every sigh and murmur from her lips was a melody I’d missed more than I realized during our years apart.

“You look radiant,” I murmured, my voice thick with emotion as I gazed at her. Her hair was a tangled cascade of dark curls, spread across the pillow like a halo. Her eyes, still clouded with the remnants of our passion, sparkled with a light that seemed to illuminate the room. “I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.”

She turned her head slightly to meet my gaze, her lips curved into a smile that was both teasing and tender. “And I’ve waited for it just as long,” she replied, her voice a soft caress. “You’re as wonderful as I remembered, Harry. I’m so proud of you, all you’ve accomplished. And this house—” she gestured vaguely around us, “—it’s been my joy to care for it, to make it a place where you could return and feel at home.”

Her fingers traced a gentle path along my chest, sending shivers of pleasure through me. I cupped her cheek, my thumb brushing across her soft skin, and leaned in to press a tender kiss to her forehead. “I’m proud of you too, for everything. For holding our home together while I was away, for your strength and your love. It means the world to me.”

Her eyes softened, and she nestled closer, her body pressed against mine in a way that made me acutely aware of the new life we had created together. “And now,” she whispered, her voice filled with awe and wonder, “we have something even greater to look forward to. I’m honored to carry our child, Harry.”

I let out a deep, contented sigh, my hands resting on her still-flat belly. “You’re going to be breathtakingly beautiful with our child growing inside you,” I said, my voice husky with anticipation. “I can already imagine the way you’ll glow, the way your body will flourish as you carry our little one. You’ll be radiant, like a goddess.”

Her laughter was soft and musical, a sound that filled me with an overwhelming sense of happiness. “I can’t wait to see you as a father,” she said, her eyes shining with love. “Our child will be so lucky to have you.”

I kissed her again, this time more deeply, my hands roaming over her curves with reverence. “And I can’t wait to watch our family grow,” I said. “I imagine them running through our garden, playing in the sun, filling our home with laughter and joy. We’ll watch them grow, teach them, love them. It will be a new adventure, one that I’m eager to begin.”

Her smile widened, and she traced a finger along my jawline, her touch light and playful. “And I’ll be right here with you, every step of the way. Together, we’ll build a life full of love and happiness.”

As we lay there, our bodies intertwined, the weight of the past seemed to lift from our shoulders. The wars, the battles, the bloodshed—they were behind us. What lay ahead was a new journey, one of love and life, and I knew that with her by my side, it was a victory I would cherish for all my days.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic rec #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles story

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midnightscramble · 7 months ago

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Heyy, could you make an Violet bridgerton x maid please??

Good luck, Maid! Part 1 (Violet Bridgerton x fem!Reader)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

The Masterlist

Author's Note: So, so many creative liberties were taken, if it is not to your liking feel free to request a part 2 with a more detailed ask (don't be shy!) Happy readings to you.

Summary: Violet is in need of a new maid, Eloise implores the help of Miss y/n. Violet turns to a friend as she digests the new feelings being spurred on by y/n.

Warnings: slight internalized homophobia, age gap relationship, SFW, no Beta read

Anthony stormed into the drawing room in a fury, causing the rest of the Bridgerton family to look up from their places and the mindless chatter to cease.

“Mother, I’ve fired Miss Smith- she has irrevocably disrespected our family name. I’ve heard talk amongst the staff that she has been selling old clothes and pocketing the money.”

Somewhat still startled, Violet looked upon her son with a grimace, “but what shall I do about the Kent’s ball tonight? I still need to get ready, and I hardly look presentable as is.” She pursed her lips in thought and turned her gaze to the rest of the room.

Before she could speak again, a very eager Eloise offered, “well that is simply unacceptable, you should have Miss Y/n help dress you tonight. However, dressing both you and I would pose a challenge to a timely arrival…So it would be most sensible if I did not accompany you tonight-“

Violet gently raised her hand, and smiled fondly at her daughter’s blatant attempt to weasel her way out of going, “That is a very generous offer, Eloise. Although, don’t let my acceptance be misconstrued, I am aware you look for any excuse to avoid these events.” Eloise shrunk slightly at getting caught but a closed mouth smile pulled across her face at her own victory.

“Thank you, Mother” she patted Violet’s hand and went to stand, “and not to worry, I will tell Miss Y/n of tonight’s change.”

…

Violet sat on her bed awaiting Miss Y/n’s arrival. She had only ever caught glimpses of the young maid. Eloise preferred to be alone most of the day and used her brothers as chaperones, so Y/n’s job had been significantly reduced, allowing her to spend the bulk of the day in the staff quarters.

She knew her daughter despised having social responsibilities, and with her upcoming trip to Scotland perhaps she would relieve her from forced outings until the departure. Such would free Miss Y/n to be the semi permanent solution to Miss Smith’s firing.

In quiet reflection, she smoothed her hand across the comforter, tracing the designs. As busy as she kept herself, she could not ignore the subtle emptying of her house. While winter brought shorter days to the Ton, days spent by herself seemed to drudge towards the sweet relief of sleep. Although she loved Hyacinth and Gregory, their company could become quite tedious when their insistent arguments became less amusing and more predictable. Benedict was rarely home and when he was he joined the sibling banter. No matter where she went, a dreadful feeling of isolation followed.

Lost in thought, she did not respond to the initial knock at her door, “My lady, may I come in?” The muffled voice of Miss Y/n broke her from her trance. She rose from the bed in a hurry, “Yes, please do.”

She stood with her hands clasped neatly in front of her, watching the door open with great anticipation. Miss Y/n’s face was revealed, and Violet’s mouth opened slightly. As if the world had slowed she watched Miss Y/n enter. Eloise’s maid was quite pretty. Her eyes held a wisdom that was uncommon for her age, and lacked the cruelty that usually accompanied it.

Time quickly caught up with Violet as Miss Y/n stood in front of her, awaiting instruction. Violet smiled awkwardly and lowered her eyes, which proved to be a mistake as she looked upon Miss Y/n’s figure.

Stuttering slightly, “let us start with hair shall we”, Violet motioned towards her vanity and in a few short strides took a seat.

“Yes, my lady,” with expertise and nimble fingers Y/n plucked the pins holding Violet’s hair up, causing waves of the light brown locks to cascade down.

Violet watched the young woman work through the mirror. She found herself entranced by the graceful movements of hands and suddenly envisioned them tangled in her hair, tugging her head back to expose her neck. She took in a sharp breath, surprised by the vivid imagery. Her eyes closed as she tried to ground herself. She felt her face get hot and opened her eyes quickly, and to her utter horror, her cheeks burned a bright red.

It confused her, how could the simple presence of Y/n make her imagination run errant? Violet sat dumbfounded, perhaps her loneliness had caught up with her. She made a note to spend ample time with Lady Danbury after this, she was obviously feeling a deficit in emotional intimacy if her mind was playing such tricks on her.

…

Once at the ball, Violet let Hyacinth and Gregory run off with the Kent children to the garden, while she herself made haste to Lady Danbury.

“Ah Violet, wonderful to see you.” Lady Danbury smiled lightly and looked out at the crowd of young people dancing, “interesting how they can touch and dance so openly, yet it would be the talk of the Ton if they were to hold gazes too long in the courtyard.”

Violet laughed absently still thinking about the way Y/n hands flittered through her hair, “Yes. Interesting indeed, Agatha.”

Lady Danbury glanced at her from the side, sensing her distractedness, reaching her hand out to Violet’s shoulder in concern she said “Violet, is something the matter…”

It was the clear affection from a woman so formidable to the Ton that made Violet realize she was in fact not in a deficit of any kind. What she had felt for Miss Y/n today was a rather unique, isolated experience.

“Actually…” Violet pursed her lips and looked over her shoulder briefly, “shall we tour the gardens?”

Catching on, Lady Danbury hummed in agreement, lacing their arms together as they began their walk, getting away from prying eyes. Once in the garden, Violet let out a sigh, unsure of how to phrase this.

“I felt something strange today,” Violet’s whispered words were almost carried away by the wind.

Ears peaked, Lady Danbury widened her eyes in questioning, “Should I presume this is about our earlier discussion of a certain garden being in bloom?”

With a guffaw, Violet nodded abashedly, “You always shock me with your blatancy, but yes, in a way it is about…that.”

In jest, Lady Danbury motioned towards the flora and fauna of the Kents grounds, “Well, have you found someone to tend your garden?”

Violet laughed, “Not quite, I am afraid things are quite complicated.”

“Do you like them?” Lady Danbury questioned.

“I am not sure…” came Violet’s quiet response.

“Do they like you?” she tried again.

“Good heavens, most likely not.”

“Hmm complicated indeed.” She finally agreed. “I can only advise you to pursue what makes you happy, but you must know what that in itself is, Violet.”

Violet nervously sucked in a breath of the cool night air, “What if it were something unspeakable?”

“Why, Violet, I’d be impressed,” she laughed and grabbed Violets hands in sincerity, “We have all done unspeakable things, however between friends the unspeakable can be spoken without fear of judgment.”

Looking into her friend’s eyes, she squeezed the other woman’s hands, “You are a good friend, Agatha. For now I have nothing of tangibility to speak of... However, I may ask you to tea in the near future if that would be alright?”

“That would be perfectly fine, my dear, shall we head back to the party?”

“We shall.”

#violet bridgerton x reader #violet bridgerton #wlw #violet bridgerton x maid reader #violet bridgerton x female reader

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little-diable · 2 years ago

Text

Stream - Finan x Reader x Sihtric (smut)

Besties, y'all need to hype this up, since there aren't many active TLK readers on here currently. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: pwp, the three of them fuck in a stream close to Winchester, set in S2E6

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected vip, handjob, sex in the stream so somewhat public

Pairing: Finan x fem!reader x Sithtric (1.2k words)

Winchester was busy, people kept running around, chatting about the upcoming wedding of Æthelred and Æthelflæd, excited about the following celebrations, all too oblivious to the danger waiting ahead. (Y/n) was sitting on the stairs in front of Finan and Sihtric, not sparing much attention to the words Æthelwold tried to share with Uhtred. She had her shoulders pressed against Finan’s knees, eyes closed to enjoy the way her lover kneaded her aching shoulders, trying to work on the pain lingering inside her body.

“Come, the king’s waiting.” (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered open to follow Uhtred’s frame disappearing, giving the others a few moments of silence. While the monk that had found its way to them moments ago now disappeared within the crowd, Æthelwold also left the others behind, probably finding comfort in the nearest alehouse.

“So, what shall we do?” Finan’s voice echoed through the air, eyes flickering between (y/n) and Sihtric. A smile tugged on the woman’s lips, rising to her feet with a small groan rumbling through her.

“How about a bath? We should make use of the calmness before it escalates, and I think we all know it won’t take long for something to happen.” With both her hands reached out for her two lovers to take, (y/n) dragged them through the city, mind set on a nearby stream she had found the last time they'd been here.

“I think our lady here is just trying to get us out of our leather.” Sihtric’s laugh overpowered the clicking of (y/n)’s tongue, slightly shaking her head as she let go of their hands, coming to halt in front of the stream. The water looked all too clear in the sun, shielded from any curious eyes, giving them the calmness their minds had been aching for.

The three of them started undressing, eyes shut to enjoy the cold water clinging to their bodies, washing away the dirt and sweat of the past days. For a few moments none of them dared to speak up, basking in one another’s company, in the sweet sounds of nature, and the quiet stories the rushing by water told.

Finan’s wandering hands started to break the peace, pulling (y/n) against his chest to press a few kisses against her now cool skin. A soft moan broke through the female warrior, eyes still closed to focus on her lover’s touch, not noticing the look of mischief Finan shot Sihtric, watching him move closer. Sihtrics hands moved up her sides, cupping her breasts to leave a few kisses along them, softly sucking on her hardening nubs.

Her eyes fell open, eyes catching Sihtric’s glistening ones, not breaking eye contact once, not even as Finan’s hand found its way between their bodies, cupping her heat. She was dripping for her lovers, desperate to be filled by them, to pleasure one of them with her hand, while the other would take her like they’d done hours ago, in the quiet hours of the night.

“Your body’s aching for us, eh?” She could only moan to reply to the words Finan murmured into her ear, skilled fingers brushing through her folds. With trembling fingers (y/n) found Sihtric’s chin, pulling him up to meet her lips in a teeth-clashing kiss, tongues battling for victory. (Y/n)’s moans and the satisfied groans of her lovers broke the calmness of the afternoon, echoing through the air as if they were holding their own celebration, clinging to one another in hopes of being able to stay like this forever.

“Need you, please, I need more.” Her words were murmured against Sihtric’s lips, making a smirk widen on them.

“You hear that, Finan? So desperate for us.” Sihtric pressed one last kiss against her lips before his eyes met Finan’s, wordlessly communicating their next movements. Her hand was brought to Sihtric’s twitching cock, while Finan brushed his through her folds from behind, coating himself in her arousal. She was pulled in for another bruising kiss as Finan pushed into her from behind, forcing her walls to spread.

Trembling hands struggled to pump Sihtric’s cock, mind and body distracted by the feeling of Finan taking her from behind. Sihtric’s hand helped her move, unable to bite down his smirk as he watched her tremble between them, still not used to being touched like that, even after months of sharing her body and soul with the two men.

“I bet the gods are jealous of me right now, what a sight.” Heat flushed through her at Sihtric’s words, unable to pick up on the words Finan murmured, swallowed by the moan breaking through the man. Her walls clenched around his cock, already close, not able to drag out the moment much longer.

Sihtric’s cock twitched in her grasp, head rolling back to expose his neck further to her wandering eyes, enjoying the way she tightened her grip on him. The three lovers were a tangled mess of moans and groans, unable to hold back as they pushed themselves further and further towards the edge, about to cum together.

(Y/n) was the first to let go, eyes squeezed shut as her orgasm rocked through her, forcing her to struggle with the pumping motion of her hand, needing Sihtric’s help once again. The men followed her down the edge moments later, cum painting her walls and her stomach white, leaving their stain on her as if it was the first time they were claiming her. All three of them were heavily panting, clinging to one another for a few more moments before they parted, desperate for another dip.

“I love you.” Sihtric whispered the words as he pulled (y/n) in for a kiss, not letting her go yet, unable to trust her quivering limbs. She replied the loving three words with her hand cupping his cheek, laughing in surprise as Finan picked her up, pulling her away from Sihtric to squeeze her sides, forcing another love confession from her lips, desperate to word out the way he loved her.

And with the sun burning down on the three lovers, they found some peace in its warmth and company, momentarily able to forget about the struggles laying ahead.

#sihtric x reader x finan #sihtric smut #finan smut #the last kingdom imagine #the last kingdom #finan x reader #sihtric x reader

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erisenyo · 5 months ago

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*furiously googling sentence prompts*

maybe something with “I said it was going to be fun, not that it was gonna be smart.”? i can really see Zhu saying it. or either one of the jetko boyz haha

For @radiantemperorweek Day 1, Devotion!

Zhu flashes one of those smiles that’s just this side of baring his teeth, like he can radiate happiness into Ouyang through sheer effort. “I said it was going to be fun, not that it was gonna be smart.”

Ouyang gives Zhu a sour look and refuses to let his face twitch into any direction that could be construed as a smile. “Your ideas of fun are debatable.”

Zhu arches his eyebrow, knowing. “So are yours,” he says, and Ouyang glares, and then ever harder as he feels the hot flush of embarrassment rushing through him.

“Oh yeah?” Xu Da grins, dropping the latest round of drinks onto the table and slinging an arm over Ouyang’s shoulder in the same move. “What’s our favorite grumpy wet cat think is fun, then?”

Ouyang flushes even hotter, barely stopping himself from hissing as he squirms away from the solid press of Xu Da’s body—and Xu Da laughs like he knows it, too, Ouyang clenching his fingers into fists and feeling the dull-sharp ache of the bite mark on his forearm shivering to life beneath his sleeve.

“Oh!” Esen leans in with that earnest drunkenness of his, the faint frown on his face disappearing into a sunshine-bright, loose smile as his eyes move from Xu Da to Ouyang. “Ouyang likes horses, and history!”

“Oh?” Ma says, half-polite and half-skeptical, and Ouyang purposefully ignores her and the look he can feelWang giving the side of his face, which just leaves Esen’s enthusiasm to focus on.

“Oh, and also going out dancing!”

Ouyang loathes dancing. And watching Esen dancing. And watching women attempting to dance with Esen.

Ma makes another half-skeptical noise.

“Basketball!”

Ouyang endures the humiliation of being bodied to the concrete whenever Esen drives, as if Ouyang can’t put Esen on his knees in the dojo without even breaking a sweat, if he ever cared to.

“Watching football!”

Ma gives him a confused look, and Ouyang wishes to the depths of his being that she had never seen the ordeal of an Esen boisterous on beer and victory.

“And really big, fluffy robes, like the kind that come with matching slipper—"

“I think they get the picture,” Ouyang cuts in, the tips of his ears burning at the way Zhu and Xu Da are staring at him and Ma is studiously not.

Esen shrugs, smiling, pleased with himself and bright with it and Ouyang presses his forearm against the edge of the tacky table and feels the bite mark burn.

“What was it dear Zhu just said?” Wang says into the silence, droll, “’Fun, not smart?’”

Ouyang glares, burning. “Go fuck yourself, Bao Bun.”

“I don’t think I’m the one here needing a fucking,” Wang says, venomous-sweet.

“Huh?” Esen blinks, leaning in again with hopeful eagerness. “Are we going out tonight? Ouyang, are you coming?”

Wang pats his brother’s arm in mock-assurance as Ma chokes on a noise. “He just wishes.”

“I will put this fork right through your—”

“It’s nothing, big guy,” Xu Da says over top of them, apparently taking pity on him as he shifts to the other side of the booth to sling his arm over Esen’s shoulder now and grab his attention, which is worse.

Ouyang can barely look at them except if he doesn’t, he has to meet Zhu’s knowing, flaying gaze instead.

“So,” Zhu prompts, holding Ouyang’s eyes in open challenge, playing idly with Ma’s fingers, “Shall we be fun, not smart?”

“Hell yeah!” Esen says, draining his pint in a few deep swallows—

“Do you think he has a gag reflex?” Wang murmurs, his hand already covering the fork.

—and slamming the empty glass onto the table. “Let’s do it!” he grins, chivvying Xu Da up and out of the booth. “It’s just like riding a horse, right? I can show you how to do it, it’s all in the thighs and hips, you know.”

And because Zhu is awful, “Maybe you and Xu Da can ride tandem, to start,” he suggests, triumphant and terrible because he knows that if he and Esen are going to do it, then Ouyang will follow whether he wants to or not.

“Oh, yeah?” Esen says curiously as Ouyang tries to work up the willpower to stand, or to stay seated. “Hey, do you and Ma want to go first, or—"

“Are you waiting to be called?” Wang whispers into his ear, poisonous, because Wang knows that Ouyang will always follow, too. “Like a favored, devoted hound dog.”

Ouyang flexes his fist again, and then shoves to his feet. “Or like an eagle,” he says, enjoying a moment of Wang’s nonplussed expression before striding toward the fucking mechanical bull, already feeling the burn of humiliation in his gut.

#The gang's all here and let me say this was a lot of people to write #Ouyang's humiliation and denial is basically it's own character #As is Esen's himbo-ness. I am really dialing up the sunshine obliviousness in these modern AUs #asks and answers #fic writing #my writing #prompt requests #radiantemperorweek 2024 #the radiant emperor #general ouyang #esen temur #zhu chongba #xu da #Ma #wang baoxiang

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lightlycareless · 1 year ago

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More high school au with Naoya and y/n pleaseee😩😩🙏🏻🙏🏻 they are so cute and like- uughhhhh ( you don’t have to tho )

Hello anon!

Thank you so much for waiting 🥺❤️❤️ I actually have some snippets here and there of scenarios I want to write for them, however, now that valentine's day is approaching this other idea popped up hehehe, so I might as well take advantage of it.

Also, this is a two part thing. As of now, the second part is scheduled for... you guessed it, the 14th 😂

warnings: none. fluff. a lil bit of heartbreak, but nothing too serious. more to come on the second part.

All I got to say is, this went a completely different direction than I expected. We shall see if it pays off.

Without further a do, happy reading!

taglist: @sureconfused

part 2.

It’s rare when the faculty allows students to take control of anything outside of their studies and training.

But there were occasions they allowed it, especially in those where they’d not only prove they’re much better academically than any other institute, but also humiliate their sister school in their annual exchange event.

Which is exactly what happened last summer, an undisputable victory to remain for the years to come as the worst defeat Kyoto has ever experienced.

Taking this into consideration, the school thought it only deserving for the students to be compensated.

What the Tokyo school ended up choosing as a reward was a trip to one of the popular theme parks in Japan, but to afford such trip without having to choke the higher ups with their expenses, the students began to plan out ways to increase their budget.

Luckily for them, the money hungry Mei Mei knew exactly what to do.

Thus, preparations soon began to plan out, starting with decorations and activities that would not only incentivize students to participate, but willingly spend all their hard-earned money (plus an extra for herself.) for something enjoyable in return—all coinciding with the most awaited time of the year.

We’re talking about White Day, of course.

A date that you were naturally also excited for, simply because it was your first White Day since enrolling in jujutsu high.

You had your own motives to be eager, but your enthusiasm simply kept growing thanks to your classmate’s incessant discussion of the plans they set up with their boyfriends, or the guys they were being “courted” by.

“My boyfriend got reservations at this nice place in downtown! We’re going there as soon as our classes are done.” One would say.

“That’s so sweet! There’s this guy I’ve been talking to for a while now—we haven’t done much but I just know he likes me! I’m just hope he’ll confess his feelings today…” Another adds.

“What about you, Y/N? Set your eyes on anyone yet?”

No.

Maybe…

Oh, who are you lying, of course you did!

But you’re not sure he even noticed your presence; let alone your gift on Valentine’s Day. After all, he’s one of the most popular students in the whole school.

You’re talking about Geto Suguru, of course—what you’d consider to be your first crush, the first man that you’ve ever felt these growing feelings for; and with enough luck, maybe even your first love.

He was just… oh, so dreamy. Good looking, but most of all, charming. It’s a mystery how someone like him got along with Satoru at all! Maybe it was some kind of opposites attract type of situation?

Who knows.

Either way, you won’t deny that getting a chance of becoming Suguru’s special someone was equally wonderful, which you hoped would’ve increased with the chocolate you gave him exactly one month ago.

If fate desired so… then today, you’ll get your answer.

And whether you’ve caught someone else’s eye, as well?

You don’t try to get your hopes too high when it comes to that, since you’ve only been here for a few months—not enough time for anyone to develop feelings and pursue you, you know?

Geto was different though, since you’ve known him way before you even considered entering jujutsu high, due to him being your sister’s and Satoru’s (a childhood friend) classmate.

So yeah, you don’t expect much from anyone else this day, outside of… maybe a card here and there, or some sweets from the people that always bring something for the whole class just so they won’t feel excluded—sensei’s included.

And so, when classes begin, you keep reassuring yourself with the following statement Mei Mei’s Cupid Mail Service (or whatever it’s called, with a charge of course) begins to roll in: You were new, not that well known even with your sibling’s popularity, single, but most importantly, that most of the things sent through that service were for the popular kids—or so Hinata theorized.

A great excuse that would’ve kept your sanity intact… had no one else gotten anything.

The ones that didn’t voice their plans, that is, the single ones—and even then, those with a partner still managed to get heartfelt confessions from those daring enough.

«It’s just… well, luck! I think… Besides, don’t they always say that people in relationships are more popular than those that are single? I would never do something like that!» It’s what you tell yourself when seeing one of your classmates, who has a boyfriend, get a rose from the same Cupid Mail Service—and as seen from her rection, not from him. «Yeah… that must be it.»

But your anguish would only deepen when the day went on by and the gifts didn’t stop.

By that point, your sister had gotten a bouquet of roses, amongst some boxes of chocolate she didn’t bother to care for, unless they had come from Yuki-senpai.

Your brother was seen with a large teddy bear but given the grin on his face and the direction he was heading; it was clear this was a gift for his girlfriend.

Gojo and Geto getting gifts even on the day they’re not supposed to doesn’t surprise you anymore—in fact, every day seemed like a holiday to them, so you just ignored them.

Nanami was a heartthrob you did not expect to see flourish, since he mostly kept to himself, but there’s always something alluring about the mysterious, cool characters—you more than anyone else would know that.

However, none of these situations were to be the worst ones yet.

Not to discredit the poor guy, you appreciate him as the excellent classmate he is…

But even Ijichi got a gift!! Like, come on!!

Statistically someone must’ve sent you one thing at least! You’re not even asking to be appreciated by your beauty or anything, it could’ve been just because they thought you were funny or something! A great friend!

Yet, it was not meant to be.

And by the end of the school day, reality slowly began to sink into your mind—accepting that perhaps you were not as likeable as you once believed… and unfortunately, that is something that wouldn’t change, not even if you’d been here since the school was founded.

Not desiring to be seen crying your poor heart out when your feelings are finally pushed to the edge once the last bell rings, you decide to head straight back to the dorms after quickly gathering your utensils, curtly bidding everyone farewells and wishes for an enjoyable evening out, and heading out the classroom—just before you could hear any more of their whispers noting how you didn’t get anything.

Thinking that if you hurried enough, you’d be able to get to your room before anyone noticed the tears already sliding down your cheeks—but alas, there’s always someone in the wrong place at the wrong time, and just as you were to turn around the corner and leave the school building, Mei Mei calls you.

“Off to meet someone in your room? How indecent.” she snickers, noting your unusual adrenaline when traveling across the hallways. At least for someone she knew hadn’t gotten anything planned for the day. “Back in my day, we’d try to do it off campus. But if you want, I know a room—"

“That’s not—I’m not in the mood, Mei Mei.” You murmur, not bothering to turn around to face her while doing your best to hide a sniffle. “I have work to do.”

“I’m sure you do, Y/N.” she says, taking a step closer to you.

“If it’s to get me to spend money on your delivery system, I’m not interested.” You frown. “Why don’t you go ask Hinata? I’m sure she’ll be more than happy to spend all her allowance in things for Yuki-senpai…”

“Already done that—And I got to say, Hinata really is one of my best clients when it comes to it. After Satoru, of course.” She snickers—Gojo has become kind of her personal ATM at this point, he just made it too easy! You remain quiet. “Either way, I’m here for something else. Something relating to you, actually.”

Well, if this day wasn’t odd enough already.

“…What do you want?” you cautioned.

“I got a gift for you—from Cupid himself.”

“What?!” you gasp, sharply turning around to verify her words, dropping your books and breath hitching upon seeing the enormous size of the gift she held in her arms, and all that contained:

A basket filled with all kinds of chocolate, local and foreign, alongside an immeasurable number of roses that almost managed to hide the core: a red teddy bear holding a heart of the same color with the words love stitched onto it.

After being deprived of this attention for hours, it almost felt surreal to suddenly obtain all that you wanted—And not to brag, but this also had to be the biggest gift you’ve seen at school that day!

You genuinely didn’t believe your eyes… and yet, there was still more to come.

And all for you.

“—while the rest are to be delivered to your dorm.” Mei Mei says as a group of her… lackeys, (wait, is that her brother?) brought along more and more gifts—from plushies of your favorite characters, your favorite flowers, and jewelry… to the most surprising piece of all:

Boxes of mochi, of your favorite flavor, taro.

Whoever sent these gestures knew you in somewhat of a personal level, thus, you naturally had to ask—

“Who sent them?” you breathe, unable to hide your excitement at that point; could it be…?

“A secret admirer.” Is all that Mei Mei reveals. “Perhaps.”

“Aw, come on! I mean—you have to know, right?? You’re the one in charge of this!”

“I do… but my services don’t go beyond that.” She smiles—hinting wanting more.

But you suppose that for something as sweet as this, to keep the identity of your unknown aficionado would only be fitting. Partially.

“Could you at least give me a hint?”

Mei Mei only laughs, and you get the idea that it was because of your naivety when it comes to her methods.

And it was, in its majority.

But it was also because she couldn’t believe you didn’t know already!

Of course, this was nothing but obvious for someone who has made it as her personal mission to find dirt on just about anyone she can squeeze out a few yen from.

Especially from big targets like him.

But given the way he behaves around you, and the things he did today, just for your attention how come you hadn’t noticed that the heir of the Zen’in, Naoya…

Likes you?

I don't know if other schools do things like that, but mine did. And I used it once. And I never got a reply. YIKES. But I don't blame him though, that letter was wack lmao. I was only 16 😭 please be merciful.

Anyways, I hope you liked this first part :3 Keep an eye for the second one 👀👀👀

Take care, and hope to see you soon!

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen #i need a tag for the hs au

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daenerystargarycn · 5 months ago

Text

Womanhood Before, During, and After the Dance:

…regardless of seniority, the Iron Throne could not pass to a woman, nor through a woman to her male descendants.

Childbirth exacted a toll on the princess; the weight that Rhaenyra gained during her pregnancies never entirely left her, and by the time her youngest boy was born, she had grown stout and thick of waist, the beauty of her girlhood a fading memory, though she was but twenty years of age. According to Mushroom, this only served to deepen her resentment of her stepmother, Queen Alicent, who remained slender and graceful at half again her age.

“Mayhaps the whore will die in childbirth.”

Queen Alicent alone amongst them was excused from the oath, on account of her womanhood.

“…or must we kneel and kiss the old whore’s cunny?”

Nor could House Arryn be relied upon, for the Eyrie was presently ruled by a woman, Lady Jeyne, the Maiden of the Vale, whose own rights might be called into question should Princess Rhaenyra be put aside.

…though how many would still fight for her now that she was a woman wed, her body aged and thickened by six childbirths, was a question none could answer.

“I offered her an honorable peace, and the whore spat in my face.”

“Thrice have my own kin sought to replace me,” Lady Jeyne told Prince Jacaerys. “My cousin Ser Arnold is wont to say women are too soft to rule. I have him in one of my sky cells, if you would like to ask him… she remains our rightful queen, and mine own blood besides, an Arryn on her mother’s side. In this world of men, we women must band together.

He had nothing against women, Lord Borros went on to say; he loved his girls, a daughter is a precious thing…but a son, ahhh…should the gods ever grant him a son of his own blood, Storm’s End would pass to him. “Why should the Iron Throne be any different?”

“The whore of Dragonstone, he means.”

“The whore on Dragonstone is not the threat.”

Rhaenyra may call herself a queen, but she has a woman’s parts, a woman’s faint heart, and a mother’s fears.

The girl they had once cheered as the Realm’s delight had grown into a grasping and vindictive woman, men said, a queen as cruel as any king before her. One wit named Rhaenyra “King Maegor with teats,” and for a hundred years thereafter “Maegor’s teats” was a common curse amongst Kingslanders.

“The false king and the whore queen shall be cast down with all their works, and their demon beasts shall perish from the earth.”

…calling down the wroth of the gods upon “this unnatural queen who sits bleeding on the Iron Throne, her whore’s lips glistening and red with the blood of her sweet sister.

Lord Borros was confident of victory, for his scouts had told him that the rivermen were led by boys and women.

… Little Lord Tyrell’s mother wrote to say that she had reason to doubt the loyalty of her son’s bannermen, and “being a mere woman, am not myself fit to lead a host to war.”

“My lords, it makes no matter. They are both girls. Have we learned so little from the slaughter? We must abide by primogeniture, as the Great Council ruled in 101. The male claim comes before the female.”

Like his father, who had sided with the majority at the Great Council of 101, he did not believe it was a woman’s place to rule.

The King’s half-sisters remained his nearest kin, but Lord Peake was not about to allow a woman to ascend the Iron Throne, after having so recently fought and bled to prevent that very thing.

#fire and blood #f&b #rhaenyra targaryen #pro rhaenyra targaryen #team black #pro team black #anti team green #anti team green stans #possibly not every little quote #just the ones i thought manage to get the point across quite well

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the-fiction-witch · 1 year ago

Text

Arrangement

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Sweet + Flirty

I approached the impressive house feeling rather sheepish in my slightly more upper-class clothes, no stained sleeves today it was not the day for them. I had been considering settling down for a while now as life in port victory had become more comfortable and the time just seemed right, I had wanted to go about it on my own when a man In my ward happened to ask me about my marital status, I believed at the time he was merely making conversation with me, so I told him and here we are three months later and I'm in an arranged marriage with his daughter. It's been a funny few months… But it was nice not to have to do the whole, courting and engagement business, plus her father is the third richest man in port victory after the governor, and captain gains, and she is his only child meaning she is certain to inherit the fortune, and house, and business, so… that's a bonus. We are to meet today for the first time and in a week we shall be married.

He had floated the idea of meeting her on our wedding day but I nicked that idea quickly, I at least want to meet her before we go through with his… just in case she's nuts. I approached the impressive house second only to the governor's estate where I saw Mr Y/l/n, his wife and his daughter. I wanted not to look at her wanting to save my reaction but I couldn't help but glance, She stood trying to hide her rage inside a blank emotionless expression, her black gown across her body, her boots against the gravel and her velvet gloves across her hands, her long Y/c/H hair braided down her back with gladiolus flowers and looked only at the gravel. She kept her eyes on the roses in the arch around the house's door, her mother and father beside her as they waited. She was angry but clearly, I couldn't reveal her emotions, she had worn a slightly more funeral wardrobe you'd imagine the bride to be in white, cream or something else light not pure black this was her protest, and my first thought was I looked at her.

'She's quite pretty,' "Ahh Doctor Dawkins Pleasure to see you again, been too long since I saw my soon to be son in law," Mr Y/l/n smiled as he offered his hand, I took his hand and gave it a firm shake doing my best to be confident, "Yes of course Pleasure to see you again Sir." "And of course my sweet wife Elis," He introduced, she came forward in her sweet dress and slightly curtsied to me, "Pleasure to meet you, Mrs Y/l/n," I smiled at her doing my best to be polite and respectful as I know she reads lips mostly, She smiled and finally I was introduced to her.

"And of course, it is my pleasure to introduce you, Doctor Dawkins, to my beautiful, beloved daughter Y/n Y/m/n Y/l/n, You're bride-to-be." I finally got a good look at her, her gloved hands in front of her stomach politely, she was beautiful and her body was certainly attractive I wouldn't mind being married to that, I suppose I will be. She looked like a painting with a distant beauty as if I could look but not touch. I wanted to stroke her sweet cheek, to run my finger across her red lips, she was breathtaking the more I looked at her and I admit I was a little speechless which is rare for me. I did my best to be confident and charming even if this was a little awkward when remembering in a week I'll be married to her and all I know is her name. It hit me as I looked at her, this was real this girl is really the woman I'm getting married to, this is really my bride, But I admit… I kinda can't wait to get to know her.

I tried to find the words for a moment but forced my nervousness away and did my best to be confident, and passionate, and show her love and affection as we only had a week to get to know one another before the wedding, and I didn't want her to feel I was just going through the motions with her, If I wanted this beautiful woman to be my wife I have to win her over or I'd possibly lose her, and I didn't dare want to lose her to any other man. As I looked at her… I felt like, I wanted to see her every day, I wanted her to be the girl I come home to, and I wanted to be the man she wanted to wake up to for the rest of our lives. I wanted to show her how good a husband I'd be for her and sweep her off her feet.

I finally got some courage and spoke up, "Miss Y/l/n, you're even lovelier than I had imagined, forgive me if I stare I am not used to seeing ladies as sweet as you," I told her, why do I feel so nervous? maybe she really is just that pretty. She hadn't even said anything and I felt like a teenager asking his first girl out, but I wanted to make a good first impression on the woman I was to marry.

She rolled her eyes before they met my own for a few seconds, she glanced me up and down almost inspecting me but that was fair she had never seen me before and I was to be her husband I didn't mind she wanted to have a bit of a judge, her eyes lingered on my hair and the side of her nose twitched like a little rabbit, I know that look, she wants to fix my hair for some reason. She rolled her shoulders a little and offered her gloved hand, "Pleasure Doctor Dawkins," she said trying to hide her anger behind politeness and it not really working, Ohh? She's feisty and pretty, I like her attitude. She took her hand away and briefly wiped the hand I kissed on the skirt of her dress before her father spoke up, "Now come along, let's take the newly engaged couple on their first walk around the garden" he said more to his wife before leading her to the gardens for a walk Y/n rolled her eyes as her parents before she offered her arm to me so she could be lead on the walk.

I smiled rather eagerly not wanting to waste our time together, I took her arm and began to lead her like a gentleman behind her parents on a nice walk in the gardens it felt rather… storybookish, as I led her on our first stroll as an engaged couple she didn't look at me keeping her eyes on the plants so I broke our quiet. "Something wrong with my lips?" I teased her, "Pardon?" She asked her voice like warm milk and honey, like satin across my ears that certainly is a voice I could get used to. "You wiped my kiss," I reminded her, "I don't know where you've been," She answered with a serious tone as we walked, I laughed a moment "Uhh how do you want me to answer? that I've been kissing the hands of beautiful ladies? or performing surgery? or been down the disorderly house?" "I don't know how you spend your time doctor," she briefly met my eyes before returning her view to the flowers,

I didn't want to admit how I spent my time, that's not the best idea… so I decided to well… lie. But I need to impress her, "well, for your information, I spend my time at the orphanage, tending to the children's scrapes and bruises. it may not be the most prestigious way to spend time, but I find it very rewarding." I told her as gentlemanly as I could, I didn't exactly want to tell her I spent my nights in the cat and bagpipes with a girl on my knee gambling my money away on cards. she chuckled a moment biting her lip before she spoke shooting me a glare "Is that so?" "Yes it is, I take great pride in it," "Port Victory doesn't have an orphanage." She reminded, Shit. Well, she's got me there… I'm in too deep, lie my way out of this! "Well… how would you know, Miss Y/l/n? Have you ever been to the orphanage in the town?" I asked trying to tease her "as a matter of fact I have, I have visited all three of the orphanages within the country, Father patrons two of them and I personally patron the other with my allowance from the stock father invested in my name when I was young," she explained with a wicked smirk, "and I have never heard of you visiting any of them Doctor Dawkins," Ahh… well shit. she's really calling me out right now? I have to admit… I kinda like it, she's a little tease, it's refreshing and… a little sexy, Humm my little firecracker.

"Well…umm…yeah…I've been busy…" I lied, doing my best to get out of this without it being completely exposed that I lied to her the very first conversation we had, that's not the best start, and I didn't want to tell her the truth that's not exactly going to impress her. "So shall I ask again how you spend your time doctor?" She glared, "You are to be my husband there is no purpose lying to me, I'll find out once we are married anyway" She sighed, even the word husband was hard for her to say the word married sounded like a foreign language in her mouth, I smiled and sighed. I am defeated in this argument. I know I can't lie any longer. she's found me out and it looks like I going to have to come clean. she's right…she's going to be my wife. there's no sense in trying to lie or hide it from her…I have to come clean, I pause for a moment and decide how to answer. "I'm a gambler and a man of debauchery…just like most other men." "I see," she said avoiding my eyes seeming to not react at all she's not angry or shocked. she doesn't seem to care. I thought I'd been caught but she's not mad…she's not even surprised… that's a bad sign… "What is your game? When you gamble?" She spoke up as we walked, I smiled, thankful that she was keeping the conversation going. "I'm quite fond of high-stakes poker. I've been known to bet the shirt off my back for a good hand. I also know my way around a game of dice…."

she chuckled "Risk drunk sort of man I see?" She smiled wickedly and tightened her grip on my arm a little as we walked, "I prefer rummy myself but I don't dislike poker I find it more a game of reading people than reading cards" I was a little surprised at my proper little lady, "Sure, reading people is important. but it's a game of luck more than anything else. when the cards are in your favour, nothing else matters. I know what I'm doing when it comes to cards. I've won plenty of times against people with way too much money and way too little sense…" "umm you shall have to give me a game later in the parlour" "Really? Do you want to play me in a match of cards? I warn you…I'm quite the card shark… don't expect me to go easy on you just because we're engaged," "I assure you I can handle myself" she winked, I smirked at her little wink, she's an exceptionally sassy little minx and I love it! I'd been used to playing with the rough and rowdy men at the tavern but… to imagine a future where I come home from work to my beautiful wife to a nice dinner and we cosy up in the parlour with a game of cards, I'm not sure I could be happier?

I rather think I might be getting a little smitten with her. she's intelligent, articulate, and not easily intimidated. she's also beautiful, passionate, and charismatic. she's an amazing person, and I am feeling more and more attracted to her with every moment that passes "I will certainly give you a game later then," "I look forward to it, what else do you do between saving lives in surgery and drinking between poker hands?" She asked as we walked slowly she got a little closer to me and made eye contact more often, slowly her walls were lowering and I did know my own are too. "I spend a lot of my time with friends. we meet at the tavern weekly and play a few games of dice or cards. we have great banter…and sometimes things get a little rowdy…" "rowdy? How rowdy?" I chuckled, "How rowdy do you think a group of men get when they meet every week to gamble and drink? we often wager things like our clothes, our hats, our watches, or even our boots! it can get quite rowdy indeed."

"I see, well don't be expecting our games to be wagering such things at least until the wedding" she laughed, "Well, I suppose that's for the best. our games should be more civilized, shouldn't they? since we are going to be husband and wife soon enough. my behaviour should be appropriate…" I smirked, ummm even if I don't want it to be my little firecracker. God her parents weren't here I would have my hands all over her dress by now. "it should, I take it you play down at the cat and bagpipes or do you have some secret little place?" She asked, I smirked a little that she even knew of the Cat and Bagpipes, I paused for a moment, thinking the cat and bagpipes is full of unsavoury characters…it's a boisterous scene. but she seems eager to know, but should I really be telling her these things? "It is my favoured spot, yes, but I do at times pop over places prearranged of course just last week we were in the captain's quarters of a ship that had docked.

"Forgive my questions, I merely wish to truly meet the man I am to be married to" she explained playing with her gloves a little, "if I may ask one more?" "yes, of course. what would you like to ask?" I nodded, I didn't want to stop her after all she had every right to want to know about me and I suppose it would help me learn more about her too, "I am well aware of the cat and bagpipes reputation," she said, Ohh shit. "Tell me when you drink, and gamble do you do so with one of their girls on your leg?" She asked giving me a stern smile her eyes glaring a little giving me nowhere to hide from her at all, Well, I got caught out for lying to her once, and doing it again is likely not the best idea, and I mean… she's going to be my wife I should tell her the truth, even if she may not like the answer, "yes. at times, some of the girls do sit on my lap during a game. some of them get a little too flirty…and I indulge them occasionally…" she nodded returning her view to our walk for a while not saying anything, I regretted it honesty almost immediately. she seems to have been taken aback.

This is the first serious moment of awkward silence between us. I can't stand the silence. I want to talk to her, I want to make this right. So I decided to flip the question back on her, "What about you…are you ever flirty with other men?" "no I don't," she said with a dismissive tone immediately returning to the silence, "Never?" "no." She snapped, I nodded, doing my best not to be awkward… well, I royally cocked that up. So much for good gentlemen like first impression. After a while of walking, she finally spoke again, "The girls are to stop once we are married I'm sure you understand," she warned very seriously,

Of course, I didn't want to upset her, and after all, this is her first rule for me I didn't want to break it, and honestly… If I have her waiting for me to get home now sure I'd want to be seeing any girls down the cat and bagpipes anyway, not when I have a beautiful wife like her, "Yes. the girls will have to stop. I can assure you, I would never disrespect my wife in such a way." "if I find out they have continued I will terminate our union you understand that?" She threatened with a straight serious expression, she wasn't kidding this was her one rule she wanted the truth she wanted my loyalty and if I dared break it I would be in a living hell I'm sure she would ensure it, "yes…I understand…I give you my word…it's a deal breaker when we get married we'll both be faithful, we'll be monogamous…you have my word." "Good. And I trust as a doctor you are Ensuring me that you arrive as my husband… Healthy" she said momentarily glancing at my trousers,

Her gaze is hot and intense and it definitely makes me very anxious…but in a good way. I got that feeling again of being like a nervous teenager every moment just talking with her. And for a moment I had to put my hand in my pocket being very careful she didn't notice I had been… kinda getting hard looking at her, imagining her as my wife and all the things we would do together. "yes…well…er…yeah…very healthy. very healthy indeed." I gulped, "Good, my apologies. I merely ask as I know the cat and bagpipes girls have a… Reputation," "It's…quite alright. I assure you." I nodded, "While I occasionally indulge in a…less than appropriate behaviour…I am always very careful in such scenarios…" "good. At least one of us is experienced and… Knows what they're doing" she muttered almost inaudible, for a moment her words confused me and then it clicked, "You shall have to forgive my innocence in such departments literally." ohh… right she's a proper young lady, so she's never… Ohhh god, I need to stop thinking about that! Ummm, my innocent little firecracker wife.

"don't worry, my dear. I'll teach you as much as you need to know once we're married." I smirked giving her a playful wink, "Really?" she playfully smiled back squeezing my arm, "Don't worry, my dear. everything I know I will teach you. we'll be equals, and we'll be each other's teachers. I don't mind teaching you every last thing you need to know. it will be fun…" "I'm sure it will," she smirked before a look of sadness and concern washed over her face, "this is truly to happen we are to marry in just seven days" "yes, we are. the wedding is set. it's happening. are you worried?" "somewhat." "why are you upset?…is it the wedding itself that is bothering you? or is it the idea of marrying me?" I asked suddenly feeling slightly insecure, "uhh well, the entire concept honestly Doctor Dawkins. I have been putting off getting married for so long that my father literally arranged one for me. It is not you, I promise I just it's all rather overwhelming that this is a fact… Happening" "I understand. it's a bit overwhelming to think that you are suddenly going to be married. and to such a handsome fella like me, I'd imagine it would be even more overwhelming." I smiled with a playful little wink, hoping to lighten the mood. she smiled and briefly laughed, and I smiled widely she had such a cute little laugh, "I admit I find this whole situation rather…exciting," "Exciting?"

I smiled as I moved a little closer to speak more hushed to her and to take in her preticorn and lavender scent, "very exciting…I don't know about you…but I cannot remember the last time I've felt this way. I've never been this attracted to someone before…never. it feels like I'm seeing the world with brand-new eyes. every time I look in your direction all I see is how beautiful you are. I see nothing but a stunningly gorgeous woman…how can someone be so stunningly beautiful…it's just unbelievable…" "quite the man of complimentary words too I see" she teased, "only when it's warranted. and in your case, it's very warranted for you, I do not often praise a woman with my words but when I find them as charming and gorgeous as you, I simply can't help myself," I smiled, "I may just have a little crush on you, my dear." "a crush? We're engaged" she laughed, "oh my…my apologies. I forgot to update my terminology. yes, we're engaged. and I have a bit of an…engagment-crush. that's what I meant. you see? I'm just utterly enthralled with you…I'm absolutely captivated…all I can see right now is how beautiful you are. how can I not have something of a crush on you?" "That's very sweet doctor," she nodded, "Jack," I told her, "You're to be my wife in a week, you can just call me Jack," "Very well, Jack." She smiled, "Then Just Y/n, I insist." "Y/n, I am blessed to be allowed such a formality, my dear." I smiled kissing her hand,

#thomas sangster #tbs smut #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #tbs imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster #thomasbrodiesangster #thomas brodie sangster smut #tbs #jackdawkinsartfuldodger #jackdawkins #jack dawkins #jack #thearttfuldodger #the artful dodger #theartfuldogger

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