#named after the first set of times I could think of btw

[akkivee]

i’m not posting this for any other reason than to cry over ichiro’s voice as he teases kuukou lmao 😭😭😭

[ayyponine]

not to be a milennial but harry potter and the prisoner of azkaban really is that bitch....

[thewispsings]

Could you do a part 2 to please date my sister in law with max and r getting married?

wedding of the century | max verstappen

part 2 of ‘please date my sister in law’

pairing: max verstappen x reader

summary: one year after charles sets up his sister in law with max, the world is preparing for the wedding of the century.

liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername, landonorris, and 819,717 others!

maxverstappen1: to be wed 💙

view comments below!

user1: OH SHIT ITS HAPPENING

user2: STAY CALM EVERYONE!! STAY CALM!! STAY FUCKING CALM

user3: charles leclerc found yelling out in happiness, 3:21 AM, monaco.

user4: oh my god

user5: omg

user6: the pictures are so cute 🥹

user7: THAT SHOUDLVE BEEN ME

user8: marrying max? or marrying yn?

user7: BOTH

user9: max waited no time to put a ring on that

user10: AHH IM SO EXCITED

user11: i can live out my wedding fantasies through you guys 🥹

user12: i know charles is freaking out rn

charles_leclerc: oh yes. i’ll be over with the binder in five minutes.

user13: he’s actually at lot more calmer then i expected

yoursistersuser: nope! he yelled for a straight ten minutes after this was posted

user14: yeah that sound more like him…

user15: so happy for you two 🤞

landonorris: so when can i pick up my bridesmaid dress?

maxverstappen1: you mean your groomsmen suit?….

landonorris: i know what i meant

user16: i hope max takes her last name

danielricciardo: how funny would it have been if she said no

maxverstappen1: not funny at all

danielricciardo: tough crowd

user17: ahhhh congratulations!!

user18: NO PLS NO

user19; you have shattered my heart

yourusername: FUCK YOU BEAT ME TO IT

maxverstappen1: YOU TOLD ME I COULD MAKE THE ANNOUNCEMENT FIRST??

yourusername: I LIED I WAS GOING TO BEAT YOU TO IT

maxverstappen1: HAHAH SLOW POKE

user20: these are the two getting married btw

user21: i didn’t want you anyways 😒

liked by, charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, and 916,016 others!

yourusername: officially a #fiancé! 😾

view comments below!

user22: so it’s real….

user23: why wouldn’t it be real?

user22: idk i was hoping max went crazy and just started making shit up

user24: you know what. hell yeah.

user25: mama a happy future ahead of YOU 💜

user26: CONGRATULATIONS!!

user27: no….

user28: this just broke my heart

user29: so happy for you two 🥹

user30: if anyone deserves this happiness, it’s you!! congratulations 🎊

oscarpiastri: oh he wasn’t kidding

oscarpiastri: you said yes?…

yourusername: i cannot deal with your negativity today oscar

oscarpiastri: IM JUST SAYING

oscarpiastri: you said yes?…

user31: let’s all say thank you charles!!

charles_leclerc: YES THANK YOU CHARLES! WE ALL THANK CHARLES!!

charles_leclerc: and too think they all called me crazy for setting them up!

charles_leclerc: HA

charles_leclerc: and to think…

user32: you’re talking to yourself babe

landonorris: i can’t wait to pick up my bridesmaid dress

yourusername; we talked about this lando

landonorris: i know 😔

user33: does this mean lando isn’t a bridesmaid? because i would KILL to see that man in a dress

user34: HELL YEAH!!

user35: true love, rock on 🤘

user36: 50 percent of marriages end in divorce

user37: genuinely, why would you say this

user36: i’m a hater to my core

user38: no you’re a bitch to your core

user39; oh damn

yoursistersuser: love you babe 💜 but pls tell charles he can calm it with the wedding planning

yourusername: and you think he’ll listen to me?

yoursistersuser: no, but it was worth it a try 💔

liked by, yourusername, maxverstappen1, and 720,015 others!

charles_leclerc: it’s always hows the wedding plannING? and never hows the wedding plannER? 😕

view comments below!

user40: nobody gaf how you are, WHENS THE WEDDING?????

carlossainz: when’s the wedding?

user41: you signed up for this buddy, when’s the fricking wedding???

oscarpiastri: when’s the wedding?

user44: uh huh, uh huh, yep totally agree! when’s the wedding?

user45: who cares, when’s the wedding?

user46: i don’t care, when’s the wedding??

landonorris: when’s the wedding?

user47: don’t give a shit, when’s the wedding?

user48: chop chop wedding planner, when’s the wedding????

danielricciardo: when’s the wedding?

user49: OMG CHARLES NOBODY CARES ABOUT YOU, WHENS THE WEDDING????

user50: shut up when nobody asks, when’s the wedding????

maxverstappen1: when’s the wedding?

user51: boy who asked? when’s the wedding?????

charles_leclerc: I WAS GOING TO ANNOUNCE THE WEDDING DATE. BUT YOU SICK FUCKS DONT DESERVE IT! SO FUCK YOU ALL!!! YOU WONT KNOW WHEN THE WEDDING IS!! HA HA HA. LOSERS.

user51: charles wait we were joking

user52: don’t pmo

user53: DONT BE SUCH A BABY!!! WHENS THE FUCKING WEDDING?

liked by charles_leclerc, carlossainz, and 1,027,017 others!

maxverstappen1: i’ve reached peak happiness

view comments below!

user53: you are fucking kidding me

user54: CHARLES I WILL KILL YOU

user55: WHAT

user56: WHEN

user57: HOW

user58: WHERE

yourusername; 💙💙

user59: BUT YOU JUST PROPOSED??? LIKE THREE MONTHS AGO

user60: no, you guys are actually so fake for this

user61: wow, i can’t believe this

landonorris: congratulations!! i still think me as a bridesmaid would’ve been amazing but….

maxverstappen1: let it go lando

landonorris; FINE

user62: charles when i find you

user63: i say we all kill charles on his birthday

user64: how could you guys do this to me??

oscarpiastri: loved the shrimp! 🦐

user65: THEY HAD SHRIMP

user66: charles planned a whole wedding in 3 months???

use67: that’s actually so impressive

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri, user68, and 927,518 others!

yourusername: i win! 👰‍♀️

view comments below!

user68: you’re actually fucking kidding me. charles leclerc when i find you

user69: not to much now, he did plan this in 3 only months

charles_leclerc: THANK YOU!! HOW ABOUT SOME APPRECIATION FOR MY PLANNING

user70: stfu. it’s your fault non of us knew when the wedding was going to be

user71: these pictures are so cute 🥰

user78: living through you guys rn

user79: someday i hope to be married to someone who loves me as much as max loves yn

user80: con😭gra😭tula😭tions😭

user81: so happy for you guys!!! i will go kill myself now!!!

user82: THAT SHOULDVE BEEN ME

user83: that man did NOT wait to put a ring on it

user84: if he wanted to, he would

user85: let this be a reminder to women that if someone wanted to marry you, they would!! congratulations 💙

oscarpiastri: loved the shrimps 🍤

user86: we get it oscar

oscarpiastri; no. you don’t. the shrimp were delicious.

user87: don’t brag

oscarpiastri: i’ll brag all i want. you can’t do anything about it because i had the shrimp and you didn’t 😹

user88: oh damn

user89: someone’s passionate about the shrimp…

yoursistersuser: love you to the moon and back 🌙

yourusername:💛💛💛

charles_leclerc: i’m hearing a lot of ‘love you’ and ‘shrimps’ but i’m not hearing enough ‘thank you charles for planning a beautiful wedding in 3 months and taking time out of your very BUSY racing career to make sure my wedding was amazing’

yourusername: don’t act like you didn’t beg me to let you plan the wedding

maxverstappen1: yeah, me and yn were fine with eloping

charles_leclerc: please guys, no need to thank me! it was my pleasure ❤️

oscarpiastri: the shrimp were great man

liked by carlossainz, maxverstappen1, user90, and 710,761 others!

charles_leclerc: since no one else will say it 😒 thank you charles for planning a beautiful wedding in 3 months and taking time out of your very BUSY racing career to make sure my wedding was amazing

view comments below!

user91: i’m still pissed at you for not telling us when the wedding is

user91: it was a beautiful wedding tho

charles_leclerc: thank you charles!!

charles_leclerc: of course charles!!!

charles_leclerc: beautiful work!! especially with the very short time you were given

user92: maybe we shouldn’t let charles plan anymore weddings, it looks like they’ve drove him insane

carlossainz: i look gorgeous

oscarpiastri: the shrimps were chef kiss 🤌

landonorris: what is with you man?

georgerussell63: are you still drunk?

user93: charles posting more photos then the actual people who got married is so funny 😭

user93: it really sums up their relationship

user94: beautiful wedding planning charles!! 👏

user95: how much do you charge??

user96: i still can’t believe yn and max got together, engaged, and married in less then 2 years

user97: i bet she’s pregnant

user98: WOAH

user99: where tf did that come from

user100: or maybe they just love each other??? not everyone waits years and years hoping that their shitty bf will propose to them

user101: oh! okay!

user102: you ate those decorations up charles

user103: the flowers??? gorgeous

user103: if yn and max ever divorce, i will kill myself

oscarpiastri: great shrimp 🥰

user14: what tf is wrong with you

. . .

thank you fo rrequesting!!! life’s been busy but i hope you guys didn’t forget me 🩶

[inluvzmoon]

⋆｡˚. on camera! - itoshi rin

• nsfw

• notes: this is completely based off of a twitter porn vid lol (´∀`) for some reason i watched it and immediately thought of rin.. so enjoy!

• (here’s the video link btw! (≧∀≦)) (pls watch)

rin doesn’t send nudes. he thinks it’s stupid, a waste of time, and a huge risk to his image in case it gets leaked somehow.

nothing could’ve gotten him to send, until you asked in that sweet voice of yours with those pretty eyes one night he was real tired after a long practice. he could hardly resist you after being away from you for nearly a month now. he was growing sick of only being able to see and talk to you through a stupid facetime call.

“i miss you so much, rin rin.. miss your cock and the way you fill me up..” your gentle pout was just enough to make rin cave. his heavy sigh sounded through your phone, making your heartbeat quicken.

rin watched you on his screen, squinting slightly before nodding. “fine. get some sleep and it’ll be sent to you by morning” he spoke, looking around his room to figure out how he’d even take nudes.

you giggled softly and blew a kiss at your screen. “i love you, rin rin” the adorable smile you held on your face melted rins heart. “get some sleep too, okay? i love you so much and don’t want you getting sick”

“fine. you too”

“okay..” you smiled and reached for your phone, angling it slightly upwards, giving rin a view of your tits held by the flimsy white tank top you wore to sleep. “i love you. talk in the morning?”

rin nodded, grabbing his phone with a sigh. “uh huh. love you, hun”

you sent a kiss towards your phone before hanging up and rin set his phone down, still trying to figure out the whole sending nudes thing. he tried remembering when you’d send him nudes. pictures of your gorgeous tits in your bra or a mirror selfie while you were dressed in the pretty lingerie rin bought you.

or even your ruined cunt and fucked out face after you fucked yourself on your favorite pretty pink dildo in front of the mirror in yours and rins shared bedroom.

rin nearly scowled at the thought. it almost seemed effortless, and here he was losing his mind over it.

he stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of his hotel room, glaring at himself for even agreeing to something so stupid. “cant believe i’m even doing this..” rin scowled, pushing his sweats down a little lower than he normally had them to show off just above where his semi hard cock began twitching to life.

phone in hand, rin contemplated taking the picture, his other hand awkwardly hanging at his side. he looked utterly stupid.

with a tired groan, rin dropped his phone on the countertop and stared at himself longer, pulling his sweats back up and going to lay down on his bed, giving up and ready to type out his apology to you.

though, instead of an apology, you woke up -very excitedly - to find a video that rin had sent you. before starting the video, you were met with the image of a body that you knew all too well. the room was dark, a faint light shining on his abs that showcased perfectly the water droplets, likely from his shower.

that alone was mouthwatering as you studied it more, seeing how it cut off right before his long cock was in view for you to see. you almost wanted to call him just to curse at him, though you figured watching the video first might be worth it.

immediately, you could tell that he was close to cumming. with the way his hand frantically moved up and down out of screen, it was obvious that he was growing desperate.

you watched his other hand glide across his body, something you knew made him insanely needy. his small gasps and groans infiltrated your ears, making your breathing grow heavy and your cunt clench around nothing.

the video continued and you pressed your thighs together, practically feeling his desperation to cum while your cunt grew wetter by the second. and you almost lost it when he gasped your name, moaning through soft breaths as his cum coated his delicious abs. you almost wished you were there to lick his cum off his skin, cleaning him off before kissing him to make him taste himself and how perfect he is.

“fuck..” you breathed out, restarting the video and slowly creeping your hand into your panties while propping up your phone to watch your boyfriend cum over and over again just for your pleasure.

[miguelhugger2099]

Just a silly little request👉👈

Do u think fem!reader likes to wear crop top with no bra and Miguel's boxer. You two are just flirting and teasing each other until Miguel decided to toss the remote to reader for movie night and reflex, she tries to catch it reveal her tits and Miguel just "😳... Nice catch..." And smut if u want. Having his hands speezing them I'm going insane 😭😭

Just One Touch

a/n: this ask has been in my inbox for so long and ur not gonna believe what got me out of my month long stump to write this. everyone thank sir-mix-a-lot's song "ride" it possessed me and gave me energy. excuse the crappy writing, i'm still lowk having writers block so it's not my greatest work. please enjoy and as alwayssss i can rewrite this if you'd like <3 Art: mar_mar0u on instagram ! Unedited btw, plz dont crucify me ill die :(

It wasn’t unusual for you and Miguel to wind down after the sun had set. Movie night was a must, whether it was cheesy romcoms for you to sob to, horror movies for Miguel to be annoyed at, or even action movies to make fun of–as long as it was together. Still, Miguel teased you by holding the remote up above his head and out of your reach. He grins with one hand on his hip and watches you reach up with no progress in sight. “Give it!” You laugh, trying to keep your anger believable. “No, first you take my clothes and I know you’re gonna pick one of those creepy knock off animated movies.” He chuckles and he walks off. Due to the size difference, every step of his was three of yours–practically chasing after him. “Put respect on Over the Hedge’s name! It’s not even a knock off!” Miguel plops on the couch on one side with a huff of laughter. “Fine, fine. Here–take it!” He throws the remote above your head and you pause and stumble back.

You reach high up to grab the remote. “You asshole!” You laugh. The remote hits your fingertips and bounces a bit farther back. Your crop top rides and flows up as you lean back onto one foot to finally grasp the device in your hand.

Miguel could feel everything happen in slow motion. The small glimpse of your underboob before your nipples finally come into view. The grin on Miguel’s face slowly drops and he could feel drool slipping from his lips. He watched your boobs bounce, the roundness of your flesh and perky buds making his cheeks go red. He can’t help the disappointment in his face when your arms fall back down, shirt hiding the glorious view of your tits.

“Caught it!” You smirk at him triumphantly. His eyes continue to glance at your tits.  “Yeah, uh…” He gulps. “Nice catch.” He adjusts his shorts, hoping his growing bulge wasn’t too apparent.

You don’t notice, too engrossed in your victory and making Miguel speechless. So, you crawl in his lap, Miguel’s hands suspended in mid-air as you nestle yourself in his arms. You feel his muscles surround you like a warm comfortable blanket, leaning your back on his firm chest while you click the buttons to turn on the TV.

“So what are we picking this time?” You ask, flipping through random trailers to find what you’re looking for.

“Huh? Oh, uh, anything’s fine.” Miguel shrugs half-heartedly. He’s too focused looking down at your crop top. Slowly and gingerly, his fingers caress your stomach–light and feathery as if trying to be discreet.

“Yeah sure, whatever. Don’t complain if you don’t like it.” You laugh softly, clicking on a random movie that looked good enough.

“Mhm.” Miguel mumbles, not even hiding his disinterest in a damn movie right now. While your eyes are on the opening scene on the TV, Miguel’s eyebrows scrunch together, his lips into a tight line as he resists his urges.

He can’t help it though. He gets handsy, Miguel carefully caressing your stomach. You barely notice it since the two of you always get snuggled up like this.

You only notice when he hikes higher up, his hips shifting slightly while his fingers run up and down the valley of your tits. You smack his arm around your waist with the remote.

“What are you doing?” You ask, trying to sound annoyed but the smile seeps through your tone.

“Nuthin’” He murmurs. Miguel then feels the curve of your breast, his fingers itching for a squeeze.

“We’re supposed to be bonding.” You move to turn your head up at him. You try to meet his eyes but he stays glued downwards to your chest.

“We are.” Miguel insists, his lips slightly parted. His thumb swipes across your nipple and you gasp, feeling your cheeks burn. He can feel the nub perk up and his tongue darts out to lick his lips, biting his bottom lip to hide the satisfied smile on his face.

Miguel takes his chances, bending down to kiss along your neck, tugging you closer to him and making you melt. His body moves against yours and your eyes flutter shut. His mouth gently sucks and licks your skin and you shiver. Miguel grabs your left tit, the plump flesh squeezed in his palm. His fingers flick your nipple, circling around before gently twisting it.

You back arches and you moan. “Ah–fuck, Miguel!” You hissed, a burning heat crawling up your neck. Your hand lifts up to curl in his hair while he attacks your neck, his other hand running down to his boxers you were wearing. He slips his fingers in the front hole of the boxers, using his index and middle fingers to spread your folds apart. You feel him nip your neck with a smile as he smears your slick around your clit.

He then uses both of his hands to lift your shirt up and over your head. Your breasts are now out in the open, the cool air hitting your chest and making your nipples hard. You barely get a word out, Miguel already cupping your boobs and squeezes them. Your hips buck back to grind on his crotch, eyes closing as he plays with you. Miguel used his fingers to tease your nipples simultaneously, flicking and tweaking them. He lifts them up and watches them fall down before squeezing them again. Your pussy is soaking through his boxers, aching for more stimulation that’s making you feel empty.

His eyes are dark watching his own hands play with your chest, the memory of the bounce of your tits as you caught the remote high in the air. He wanted to see that again.

Miguel could feel his cock swell and twitch along with each bounce of your breasts. You have your body arching, hands behind you and holding onto his thighs. He plays with your tits switching with his hands or his mouth–but if you asked him, he preferred sucking on them. So that’s where he was now, lips attached to your right nipple and his right hand playing with your left. You slammed down on his cock, whining since you barely felt him thrust up. But in all honesty, Miguel could do this forever with your tits in his mouth and his cock buried in your cunt. While his tongue sucked and lipped your nipple, he knew if he didn’t focus, he’d cum instantly. He looks up at you after playfully biting down on your nub, your squeaks making his dick twitch against your walls. You look down with glossy eyes, hips stuttering and pussy throbbing when you see him smirk up at you with your boob in his mouth. One of his hands that was on your waist comes up to your back to keep your body arched. Miguel scrunches his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed while he sucks on your nipple, his hips jerking and balls slapping against your ass. You wail with each thrust, falling forward and holding onto the backrest making your boobs squish in his face. Miguel groans as he lets you fall on top of him, hands falling down to your ass as you grind on him. His cock slips in and out of your wet cunt with a wet squelch. It makes you bite your lip with a loud whimper, the action making your man under you tug on your nipple with his teeth. He’s obsessed with you, Miguel pulling away just enough to make your tits swing in his face. He glances up at your pleasure filled face, sweat glistening down your face and body while you panted and whined. He’s entranced, eyes falling down to follow the way your boobs bounce as he fucks up into you. Miguel trusts you to keep fucking yourself on his while his hands leave your ass to come up and cup and squeeze both your breasts. He kneads them and watches your mouth drop open to moan. Your head hangs and your foreheads almost touch. Miguel doesn’t need to tell you a damn thing, his lips parted while he looks at yours. You lean down to kiss him, Miguel immediately slipping his tongue past your defenses with a low groan. He continues groping you, his hips smacking up with your thrusting and he can feel himself about to cum. He can tell you’re about to too by the way your pussy spasms wildly, sucking him in deeper and soaking him in your slick.

So he hammers into you, grunting as he puts all his strength in making you cream. Your eyes roll back, mouth separating from his to dig your nails into his shoulders and roll your hips. You can barely get a word out, garbled moans of his name escaping you while your body twitches, ecstasy flowing through from top to bottom. Miguel watches your chest heave as you catch your breath, your juices dripping out of your a making a sticky mess in his lap. You’re dizzy and weak, body flopping forward on his chest. Miguel soothes you, curling his hand in your hair and pressing you into the crook of his neck. He kisses the top of your head and you’re too numb to feel him take your body off him. He places your back down on the couch, hair sticking to your face with sweat, lips plumped from kissing. You’re whining when your sensitive folds feel his still hard cock rub in between them, accidentally slipping his tip in a few times. You swallow to get the dryness out of your throat. “Mig…Mig…” You’re cut off when Miguel slams into you, your body jerking and tits bouncing with the hard thrust. Your hazy vision rolls onto his face, Miguel glued onto your chest still. He gives another few soft thrusts and watches your boobs jiggle around. You feel his cock jump inside your walls, a soft hum of approval coming from deep in his throat. He bends down, biting and licking the side of your tit to add another mark to his collection. His teeth marks littered around your plump and round flesh–his favorites being the ones around your areola.

His face is buried in your breasts while he pounds into you, your head thrown back and legs locked around his waist. Oh, he’s in heaven.

[verstappen-cult]

I have a request for max!

Reader is a strategist for Mercedes. Max and her, they got married in secret and have a 2 year old daughter together.

I know this is not much to work with but you do you!

(I love your fics <3)

hi bestie! i left the mercedes’ strategist plot out of this, but i hope you still like it! btw this was gonna be really short and ended up being this other thing. <333

You look out the car window and then to your daughter playing with her favorite plushie next to you. She doesn’t know that you’re about to be the topic of conversation for the next week — month even. She only knows that there are gonna be a lot of people trying to take pictures of you both, and that you’re gonna see Dad’s friends too. 

“Hey, baby.” You whisper, brushing a strand of blonde hair out of her face. “You’re ready to see Daddy?” She smiles at the mention of her favorite person in the whole world, forgetting all about her toy. 

“Where are we?” She asks, looking out the window. 

You lift her up onto your lap, placing a kiss on her temple. “We’re gonna watch papa just like we do from home every Sunday.”

“We have fun watching papa.” 

“Yes, so,” You take your bag and her plushie before taking a deep breath. “let’s go and have some fun, then.”

It’s no secret to anyone that you and Max have been dating for quite a few years now. You used to be more public about your relationship, but then you got pregnant and Max decided that it was best if you kept things a little more private, and you were more than happy to do it until you started to miss going to the races and seeing him more often. 

Max was a bit reluctant at first, but after some — a lot — of convincing he accepted. The two of you agreed to put some boundaries and to take things slowly. The first step was going to the Monaco Grand Prix, so, you wouldn’t have to travel and he could be home by the end of the day with his favorite girls. And, if things become too much, you can just go home. 

The moment you set foot on the paddock, you know there is no going back. You feel nervous and like your whole body is on fire, but when you look at your daughter’s smile as you hold her in your arms, you forget about everything.

“Mama, look! Papa!” She points to the giant banner to your left. And there he is, alongside a few of the other drivers. 

“Oi!” Dani calls from a few meters away. You wish he would not have done it because it draws attention you really didn’t want. 

“Uncle Dani!” 

You see the exact moment people recognize you, reporters starting to make their way to you at the same time you hurry to Dani’s side. He has a big, bright smile on his face, he’s always smiling but you think he’s genuinely happy to see you and your daughter. 

“Hi, Dani.” The Aussie wraps an arm around your shoulder and kisses your cheek as a greeting. 

“Hey, angel.” Your daughter makes grabby hands at Dani and, obviously, he immediately takes her in his arms. “Did you miss uncle Dani?” She nods, wrapping her tiny arms around his neck. 

“Have you seen Max?” You ask him, but he shakes his head, too busy paying attention to whatever your daughter is telling him in the ear. 

You don’t feel comfortable. It’s been so long since you’ve been in the paddock that now feels like you’re attending your first race for the very first time. You were nervous then, you are terrified now as you see reporters approaching, calling your name and asking about your daughter. It’s not that they don’t know you and Max have a daughter, you and Max have been pretty open about her but always leaving her face out of the family photos you share on social media. However, this is news to everyone. This is a headline. And you know they’re just doing their job.

“Let’s go find him, okay?”

You barely hear him, trying to politely tell the reporter by your left that you will not give any interview and to stop asking about your daughter. Daniel has to give you a little pat on the back to make you walk, sending death glares to the people surrounding you in the process. 

There are phones and video cameras following you along the paddock, and you think you should’ve accepted Max’s offer of waiting for you at the entrance. But you didn’t want to be a burden. You were pretty confident about handling things by yourself but now… not so much. 

“Hey, are you okay? You’re a little pale.” Dani’s voice is soothing. You’re glad he’s carrying your daughter because you don’t feel strong enough to do it. Someone behind you — one of the many, many people following you — pushes you, making you bump into another person by your side. “Watch out! There’s a baby here!”

Daniel is mad and doesn’t hesitate in wrapping an arm around your waist, guiding you inside the nearest place that turns out to be the McLaren hospitality. 

“I’m gonna call Max, alright?”  

“What’s happening outside? Oh, you’re here!”

“Uncle Lando!” Your daughter’s voice is what finally pulls you out of your head. 

You walk to Dani, taking her in your arms. “Did you miss Uncle Lando too?”

“Is something wrong?” Lando asks again, bopping the little girl on the nose. 

“So many people,” You breathe out, closing your eyes for a second. “I didn’t think it was going to be this way, really.”

“Well, it’s a big deal that you’re here. Both of you.” Lando looks outside, reporters and cameras ready to catch a glimpse for when you have to leave. “Do they know? The media, I mean, about…” He looks to your hand, right where your wedding ring is. 

You groan, hiding your face in your daughter’s neck, making her giggle. “No, but I’m sure it will be worse when they notice.”

There’s a huge commotion outside that draws your attention. When you look, you find Max trying to make his way through the mass of people. Seeing him makes you relax immediately, but then he’s pushing a man when this shoves a microphone in his face and you don’t feel so relaxed anymore.

“Shit, shit” Daniel is quick to open the doors and go outside, a few members of McLaren following him. “Can you hold her, please?” 

Your daughter goes willingly with Lando as you run outside. Daniel stands between the reporter and Max, his hand on your husband’s chest trying to stop him from jumping over him to get to the man. 

There’s a bigger commotion when they see you, everyone shouting your name and asking questions that you don’t pay attention to, but it’s enough to make Max forget about fighting the reporter.

Max runs to you, hands cupping your face. “Hey, baby. Are you okay? Something happened?” 

“I’m okay. Just—let’s go inside, please.” 

Max doesn’t hesitate. He grabs your hand tightly, not caring about being seen going inside McLaren hospitality, not when you and his daughter are there needing him.

“Papa!” 

Your husband’s face lights up, that pretty smile you love so much making its way onto his face. "Mijn mooie meisje.” The tension on his face goes away the moment he takes her in his arms. 

“You wanna go home?” Lando asks you, handing you a glass of water. 

“Yes, you’re going home.” Max answers for you, hugging his daughter tightly against his chest. 

“We are not. We knew this would happen, well, not at this scale but,” You shrug, taking a sip of water. “I don’t wanna go. We should’ve planned this better.” 

“Yeah, you should have.” Daniel jokes, but when no one laughs he just stands there awkwardly. “Look, she’s already here. You’re not gonna send her home, are you?”

Lando bites his lip before saying, “You won’t be able to hide forever.” 

“I know!” Max sighs, putting down his daughter on one of the sofas. “Why don’t you play while I talk with your uncles for a bit?” Unaware of everything, she just takes her plushie and waits for you to be finished. “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable or feel unsafe.”

“We’re safe here. Everyone will take care of us, I know that.” You take his hand, thumb caressing the back of it. “It was just the shock of experiencing all of this again. It reminded me of the first time I attended a race.” You say, shyly. 

“Oh, I remember that.” He has that special glint in his eyes that tells you that he remembers every little detail of that day. 

“Uh, gross.” Lando pretends to throw up, earning a playful push from Daniel.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?”

“Yes, love. Besides, how are you gonna tell her she won’t be watching papa race?” You look at your little baby, talking with her plushie and showing the toy around. “I don’t know which one of us is more excited.”

“You know it’s only a matter of time before they notice this?” Max takes your hand to his lips, kissing your wedding ring.

“I want them to know.” 

“Oh, thank God!” He exclaims, peppering kisses all over your face. “I hate not wearing my ring on race weekends.”

[osaemu]

GOJO SATORU: GUILTY CONSCIENCE

✩ ‧ ˚. serial killer!au: ever since that first night, you can't get him off your mind—and even though you handed him over to law enforcement, it looks like he still wants you too. PART 1 | NSFW

contents: fem!reader. porn with plot, dubcon, semi-public sex (in a bathroom), oral (m. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), pet names (detective, princess, smart girl, pretty girl, etc.), gojo cums in your mouth. non-sexual threatening. non-sexual usage of knives/guns. more plot than porn. this is not good for you btw !!! 4K words.

author's note: pls appreciate your smut writers bc this shit is hard !!!! the sk!series might be over after this one bc i'm not feeling it anymore, but nothing's set in stone yet. posting this for the ppl who wanted a part two, but personally i would've just left it as a standalone.. oh well, i didn't want 4K words to go to waste, so enjoy 🤍

“satoru gojo, what are we going to do with you?” your subordinate asks, resting his hands on the table dividing the dim interrogation room in two. you and your coworker sit on one side, facing the serial killer on the other side—who also happens to be the man you fucked in an alley two weeks ago.

ever since that first encounter, you haven’t been able to get his face out of your mind. at work, his ice blue eyes haunted your every move. at home, he was all you could picture as your mind strayed back to your time beneath him. and now, as you and your boss interrogate him, all you can think about is how good satoru’s hands felt roaming over your skin when you cornered him—or, more accurately, when he cornered you.

“i dunno,” satoru replies, leaning back in his chair and resting his hands behind his head. he grins shamelessly, looking you up and down with interest. “so, pretty girl, how’ve you been since we last met?”

you slip your hands into your pockets to stop yourself from doing something you’ll regret and ignore the curious look your coworker gives you. “this meeting isn’t about me. this is about the people you killed and the punishment you’re about to get,” you answer through gritted teeth.

satoru laughs, eyes locking with yours and seeing right through you. “that’s funny. so, who’s this shrimpy guy next to you? your boyfriend?” he jeers, grinning unnervingly at your coworker. you shoot your subordinate an apologetic look, which he responds to with a nod.

“i’m her boss, actually,” he clarifies, running a hand through his blonde hair and narrowing his eyes. “kento nanami. and i’ve been referred to as a lot of things, but shrimpy is a first.” satoru makes a face and laughs, as if he’s amused by the whole scene. 

“really? i’m surprised,” satoru replies easily. “i mean, whatever. i’ve seen better looking officers… like the one next to you.” he looks back at you, a careless smile still dancing on his lips. kento frowns and looks back and forth from you to satoru, and you force yourself to maintain a poker face in order to detract any suspicion.

“do you two know each other?” kento asks, crossing his arms. satoru starts laughing again, to which you roll your eyes. even if satoru were to tell kento what you hadn’t—that you two had fucked when you were supposed to be arresting him—you doubted that kento would believe him. after all, what’s the word of an obnoxious criminal compared to yours?

you shake your head and ignore satoru. “i’m the one who’s been leading the investigation on him for the past couple months,” you answer. kento meets your eyes and cocks an eyebrow, so you continue, “we met two weeks ago. i cornered him, but he escaped—”

“she let me,” satoru interjects, clearly enjoying the death glare you shoot at him a second later.

“you held a gun to my forehead,” you remind him pointedly, tapping the spot on your head where you vividly remember the cold metal resting against. 

“yeah, but i kissed it aft—”

“we’re getting off-topic,” kento interrupts, shooting you a warning glance. “detective, i’ll handle the interrogation from here.”

you hesitate, not liking how smug satoru’s expression is—but, seeing as you don’t have a choice, you dip your head in assent and exit the room. 

now that satoru’s been caught and is now in the grasp of the law, you don’t really have anything to do for the rest of the day. he was your case, and now, it looks like it’s closed, especially if your boss is the one interrogating him.

kento nanami has a reputation among law enforcement—he’s known as the stoic, serious man with a perfect record. there hasn’t been a single criminal he’s interrogated that hasn’t cracked, although the knot in your stomach tells you that this might be the first.

a sharp knock sounds on your office door, summoning you back from your train of thought. “it’s open,” you call, holding a piping hot coffee with both hands. kento opens the door and steps inside, eyebrows unusually tensed. his hands are balled into fists, too, in stark contrast to his characteristically calm demeanor. 

“something wrong?” you ask tentatively, studying your boss’s troubled eyes.

kento takes a seat in the leather chair in the corner of your office and rests his elbow on the armrest, rubbing his temples. “detective, be honest with me. what happened the night you were supposed to arrest satoru gojo?”

for the first time since satoru pinned you to the wall of a darkened alley, your heart drops. kento’s knowing eyes watch your every move, from the subtle twitch in your eye to the way your fingers tense around the cup of coffee. “what do you mean?” you ask carefully, surprised at how steady your own voice is.

“detective, don’t play games with me,” kento asserts calmly, hand casually drifting towards the side of his waist. you know him well enough to know what he’s reaching for—the same instrument that another man pressed against your forehead just two weeks ago.

despite your mind being clouded with fear and uncertainty, you manage to rationalize your way through the situation. what proof could your boss possibly have besides the word of a criminal? 

it’s your word against his—and you both know whose word kento’ll believe.

“that night, he threatened to kill me,” you start, repeating the story you told the authorities when they came ten minutes too late to catch satoru. “and he must’ve drugged me or knocked me unconscious because next thing i knew, he was gone.” your confidence grows with every word, and you start nodding as if you believe your own lies.

kento’s eyes narrow, and you force yourself to hold your poker face as he scrutinizes you and your words. three long, painful seconds of silence pass before his hand moves away from the holster strapped to his waist, and you internally sigh in relief. he stands without a word and makes to exit the room, but before he does, you risk it all. “why do you ask, sir?”

your boss pauses and turns back to you, eyebrows lifting in mild interest. he doesn’t answer immediately, and you tentatively ask, “...what did he tell you?”

kento exhales a soft huff of air, a look of dread in his brown eyes. “detective, for your own peace of mind, i assure you that you don’t want to know.”

well, fuck.

“i trust your judgement, then,” you reply, feeling your poker face start to slip away. you lift your now-cold cup of coffee to your lips and take a sip, attempting to hide the grimace that threatens to make an appearance. “have a good night, boss.”

“you too, detective. stay safe.”

“i’ll do my best.”

kento nods and heads out, and through your open window you watch him tell another one of your coworkers about how he’s planning on heading out early to make bread for his family, a gentle smile on his lips. eventually, he waves bye and exits the building.

you finish off your coffee and stand up, fishing out your key card from your pocket. you figure that you should head to the bathroom before you go home, just in case. a couple of your coworkers congratulate you when you come out of your office, praising you on the capture of your suspect. you take their compliments with a smile, ultimately wishing them a good night and escaping to the bathroom.

the door clicks shut behind you, and the comfortable quiet eases you at once. but before you can even appreciate the silence of the confined room, a sultry, familiar voice interrupts your thoughts. “aw, you weren’t gonna say bye before you left?”

you turn and your mouth drops open—standing before you, in the flesh, is the criminal you swore you last saw handcuffed to a chair.

“what the fu—”

satoru reaches out and grabs your wrist before you can scurry away or grab your phone. he pulls you into his chest, and you can feel his heartbeat against your back—at least, that’s what you notice before he clamps his hand over your mouth to stifle your yells.

“shut it,” satoru hisses, breath hot against the side of your face. he turns you towards the mirror of the bathroom so you can see how he’s holding you—one hand over your mouth, and one wrapped around your waist. “don’t try anything clever, sweetheart. i wouldn’t wanna have to hurt that pretty face of yours.”

you turn your head and glare at him furiously, cussing like a sailor against his hand. you eventually try to bite it, but your meager attack is essentially useless against his iron grip. satoru raises his eyebrows sternly and hushes you again, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. 

“i’ll answer your questions, honey, but be careful,” he pauses and nods at his pocket, where the handle of what appears to be a knife—how the fuck did he get his hands on a knife?—pokes out of the cloth. “okay, i’m gonna take my hand off your mouth now,” he murmurs, purposefully lowering his voice.

true to his word, satoru removes his hand from your mouth. you take a long breath and hesitate—again, there’s not much you can do in this situation but play along. if he’s telling the truth, you can ask questions and he can answer them, so you try your hand at getting some information and biding time. someone would have to walk in the bathroom eventually, right?

“by the way,” satoru starts, a grin curving the corners of his lips upward. “nobody’s gonna come save you, princess. the door’s locked from the inside.” he also removes his hand from your waist, letting you take a step back.

“how?” you ask suspiciously, unsure if he’s telling the truth or not.

satoru laughs—his hair falls into his eyes, and immediately shakes it away with a huff of breath. “i’m good with my hands. but you already know that, don’t ya?”

you back away towards the other side of the bathroom, where sinks line the quartz countertop. “why aren’t you still in the interrogation room?”

“you think you’re the only girl i can convince to let me go?” satoru tuts, clicking his tongue disapprovingly. he reaches into his pocket—not the one with the knife—and extracts a badge of some sort. satoru flicks it at you, and you catch it in midair. to your surprise, it’s the badge of one of your superiors who was supposed to be keeping an eye on satoru. the coy smile on satoru’s face confirms what you’re thinking, and his nod seals it the next second. 

“okay,” you say carefully, drawing out the word for a couple seconds. “how long have you been waiting here?”

“long enough,” satoru answers vaguely, not bothering to elaborate.

“thanks a lot,” you deadpan.

“nice to see that you’re still feisty—”

“and what the hell did you tell my boss?” you interrupt, suddenly remembering the dread-filled way kento had looked at you. the way your voice rises is unexpected enough to force satoru to involuntarily take a step back. it’s not much, but the step you take forward a second later to assert your position brings you a small feeling of satisfaction. after all, he’s only human—and all humans get surprised by loud noises.

satoru holds up his hands in mock surrender and eyes you skeptically. “you’re really worried about your boss’s approval, aren’t you?” he asks dryly, white hair falling into his eyes again. “heh, desperate much?”

you roll your eyes and curl your hands into fists—unfortunately, your action only seems to amuse satoru, but you ignore the little “aw” he coos and continue glaring at him. “answer the fucking question, satoru.”

“language,” he snorts. a second later, satoru cocks his head and thinks for a moment, and when his eyes land on you again he asks, “so, you’re still callin’ me satoru? cute.”

your face involuntarily heats up, and even though you’re sure satoru can tell, you pretend not to notice—again. “answer the question or i’ll scream.”

“you wouldn’t dare.”

“wouldn’t i?”

you don’t get the chance to fufill your threat, because satoru sees that you’re serious a second too early—everything’s a blur as he grabs your wrists and bunches them into one hand, firmly securing your hands behind your back. his chest rests on top of your back as he folds you over the bathroom counter, and his reflection leers at you from the mirror. “nice try, baby. but remember, you’re dealin’ with a world-class serial killer.”

“world-class? how humble of you,” you snap irritably, craning your neck to glare at satoru out of the corner of your eye. “you asshole, get off me or i’ll—”

satoru interrupts you by prodding at your lips with two of his fingers, forcing your mouth open and slipping them inside. you instantly attempt to bite him, but his fingers are so long that they trigger your gag reflex instead. “missed me, detective?” satoru coos, curling his fingers downwards and pressing on your tongue. a little whine involuntarily slips out of your lips, and satoru takes that as a yes. “yeah, i can tell,” he continues, studying your heated face in the reflection of the mirror. “i bet you couldn’t stop thinkin’ about me since that night, yeah?”

he doesn’t bother waiting for a response before he extracts his fingers and leaves you gasping for breath. you watch as satoru lifts his now-soaked fingers to his lips and runs his tongue over them, ice-blue eyes boring into your own. it’s disgusting, filthy even, but that doesn’t stop your thighs from clenching together in a futile attempt to hide your arousal from him.

“y’know, i think you’re wearing too many clothes,” satoru sighs, resting his chin on top of your head and smiling coyly. “wanna fix that for me?”

“do i have a choice?”

“no.” satoru pushes himself off of you and gives you enough space to start removing your clothes without his smothering presence. the idea of running away or screaming crosses your mind, but the serial killer’s smile makes you certain that you’d regret it—and that’s even disregarding the knife that’s still shining at you from his pocket. 

seeing as you don’t really have any other option, you slowly shrug off your coat and let it slide down your body and onto the floor. your collared shirt comes off next, followed by your pants, until there’s hardly anything shielding you from satoru’s hungry eyes. the feeling stirring in the pit of your stomach is hard to describe—it’s something like a mix between longing and fear, two emotions you hadn’t felt since that night.

and maybe, even though every instinct you have insists that this is the last thing you should be finding pleasure in, you want to feel that way again.

“you really coulda been anything in the world with that body,” satoru sighs, leaning back against a wall and taking his sweet time looking you up and down. his eyes narrow slyly as he watches you shrink away from him instinctually, and the next thing you know, he’s on you again, hands tracing over your skin and lips unbearably close to yours. “although, i guess it’s a good thing you’re a detective, ‘cause i wouldn’t have met you if you weren’t.”

you shouldn’t be agreeing with him, and as he lifts you up onto the counter, you also know that you shouldn’t be letting him do this. it goes against everything you swore to protect when you joined law enforcement, and if this ever got out—no, when it got out, you’d be the pariah of the city.

but even after thinking it through, one, two, maybe even three times, you can’t find it in your heart to care about much else than the hands pushing apart your thighs and slipping inside your shamelessly wet cunt.

“heh, how long has it been since we last did this?” satoru coos, eyes glazing over with a mixture of lust and adoration. his face is redder than you’ve ever seen it—the blush spreads all the way up to the tips of his ears, and it’s even more prominent underneath the overhead lights as he eyes you. “two weeks, right? feels like it’s been twenty.”

“do you ever shut up?” you mutter sourly, averting your eyes from satoru’s. he responds by curling up the two fingers he has inside your cunt, a mean little smile on his lips. 

“careful with that mouth of yours,” satoru warns, pushing his fingers in farther until he’s practically knuckle-deep inside of you. his thumb rests firmly against your clit, toying with the sensitive skin. “it’ll get you in trouble one day, pretty girl…” satoru withdraws his fingers in one swift motion with a soft, wet pop. he lifts his hand to his lips and licks off your slick, swiping his tongue over his fingers a couple times with a smile. “y’know what? i’ll let you go if you can do one thing for me, ‘kay?”

he waits for your response, raising an eyebrow patiently for you to catch your breath. it almost feels like deja vu, or some cheesy movie from the 90’s: the pretty little detective getting fucked by the big bad serial killer, and you know how these films always ended—not pretty.

“what?” you ask halfheartedly, expecting him to ask you to do something like erase him from the police records or sabotage the investigation. satoru cups your face with both hands, leaning in close enough for his lips to brush against yours, and his smile is almost mocking when he replies.

“suck my dick.”

part of you wants to ask “that’s it?”, but the glimmer in satoru’s knowing eyes makes you certain that he won’t make this easy for you. 

“what if i say no?” you ask tentatively. it’s a stupid question—now you’re just playing russian roulette with his rationality, and either way, you already know your decision.

the past two weeks have been torture. every waking moment of yours was spent thinking about the man you fucked, and every time you thought of his carefree smile and feather-light touch, you just felt guilty for wanting more. after all, when you first became a detective, you swore to prioritize your job and not make any personal relationships with your subjects. and yet, here you were, almost too eager to get on your knees for the serial killer who you swore to incapacitate. 

satoru shrugs nonchalantly in response to your question and not-so-subtly shoots a furtive glance at his pocket, where the handle of his knife still pokes out. “you’re a smart girl. i think you can guess, yeah?”

and that’s how you ended up with your lips wrapped around satoru’s dick for the seventh time (if you include every fantasy you’ve had about giving him head). it’s almost funny how he switches up the second you run your tongue over his blushing pink tip—his face goes red, all the way up to his ears, and the little breathy moans that slip out of his lips would be adorable in any other context but this.

“f-fuck, wasn’t expecting you to be this good,” he manages to mutter through gritted teeth, eyes fluttering open and shut. “where’d you learn to suck dick like this, heh—”

it’s been.. a while since satoru first helped you get on your knees in front of him and unzipped his pants, and even though it could’ve just been a couple minutes, it feels like this is all you’ve ever known. satoru’s ice blue eyes have barely moved from you since you started, and it looks like it’ll stay like that until you finish—or, more accurately, until he finishes.

satoru’s foot bounces on the floor as you lick a long stripe from the tip of his dick to the top of it, and the way his nails dig into his palm makes you absolutely certain that he’s close to cumming down your throat. “shit, don’t— don’t stop,” he chokes out, threading his fingers through your hair and involuntarily pushing down your head. “fuck—”

when satoru finally cums, it’s pitifully obvious—actually, it’s almost embarrassing. last time, you were the one in shambles when he was done with you, but now, it looks like it’s the other way around. his eyes flicker as they almost roll back from the sheer pleasure of you sucking him dry, and when satoru’s cum shoots out of his painfully hard dick, it’s a hot mess that leaks out of your mouth and down your chin. 

“y-yeah, good girl,” he murmurs shakily, reaching down and swiping his thumb over your cum-soaked, swollen lips. you lick off the thick, viscous liquid from his fingers instinctually, a dazed little smile on your face as you watch satoru tilt his head back towards the ceiling.

it’s interesting, seeing the city’s infamous serial killer like this. he’s leaning back against the white tile of the bathroom walls, chest heaving from his orgasm, and in that moment, you realize that his attention is on everything else but you. 

so, naturally, you stab him in the back.

not literally—that’d be a pain for your office’s custodian to clean up, but you extract the knife from satoru’s discarded pants and, before he can register the sharp object in your shaky hand, you press it to his blush-red throat. 

satoru’s hazy eyes widen in disbelief as he realizes what’s going on before they narrow in what looks almost like a mix between anger and shock. it’s stupid, foolish, and almost naive, but somewhere in your chest, it feels like a dagger pokes at your softened heart when you categorize the look in his eyes as betrayal. which is, by all accounts, entirely unreasonable—did he seriously think you wouldn’t take advantage of him like this?

at the end of the day, no matter how good the dick was, you weren’t about to sacrifice your well-paying job for a man on the run from the law.

“what the fuck?” satoru snaps, hand twitching in a movement to throw you off of him, but thankfully, the sudden shift in atmosphere heightened your instincts to a point where nothing could possibly catch you off-guard. you dig in the knife a millimeter deeper into his throat, avoiding eye contact with the man you just made cum with your mouth. “are you—”

“yeah, i am,” you assert, biding time. as much as you’d like to pretend that you’re completely in control of the situation, there’s only so long that you can hold up this stalemate. satoru’s stronger than you physically, and the second he figures out a way to handle the knife pressed to his neck, he’d get his revenge.

satoru comes to this conclusion about as fast as you did, and his lips curve upwards in a jeering smile. the look in his eyes is borderline insane when he snarls, “nobody’s gonna rescue you from me, princess. just you wait—”

and, with perfect comedic timing, the bathroom door opens, and one of your female co-workers steps in. you’ve never talked to her much, but thankfully, her instincts are even faster than yours.

what happens next goes by in a haze. your co-worker holds a gun to the side satoru’s head, and calls for backup. then, a handful of sleepy-eyed police officers haul away a cursing and fighting satoru to who-knows-where.

but just before he’s out of sight, satoru shoots you an unsettlingly calm look. and as if that wasn’t concerning enough, the last words he mouths to you are “this isn’t over.”

[axelsagewrites]

could you make a robb stark x baratheon reader where they grow up together as friends and were promised to each other, at the beginning reader thinks robb doesn't wanna marry her but then he tells her he loves her

if you could please add smut at the end (afab reader btw)

Robb Stark*Arranged

Pairing: arranged marriage!robb stark x princess!reader

Word count: 2272

Warnings: arranged marriage, anxiety, talks of running away, making out, (smut in part two but this is mostly wholesome), fluff

Masterlist here

A/N: sorry this (and everything else lol) has taken so long but part two with the smut will be up in the next couple of days :)

despite being a Baratheon by blood, by title, and by name most days you felt more like a Stark than anything else. Your father had sent you up to the North on your eleventh name day to become a ward of Ned Stark as part of an alliance of sort. Marrying his eldest daughter to a well-respected and established house only strengthened your fathers claim.

It had benefits for you, well at least he told you all his reasons in the letters. You’d be safe under lord starks protection, able to grow up alongside Sansa Stark who was only a year younger than you, become the future lady of Winterfell, and most importantly, to you at least, marry your childhood crush.

Yes, that’s right from the time you met him at four, him being five, you were smittened. Your father had travelled north on business but also happened to attend the wedding of one of the northern lords. He and ned laughed loudly, clinking their glasses together, as they watched you force Robb to walk down a pretend aisle with you that Jon helped you set up with chairs.

Of course, it was just a silly crush. It’s not like four-year-olds understand what a wedding is. By the time you moved to the north at eleven it was just a fond memory of your fathers he would tell at dinner parties.

In the nicest way possible when you first arrived Robb didn’t even care you were there. He was twelve and running about with wooden swords to practise with Jon and Theon while you and Sansa would practise hairstyles in each other’s hair.

However, by fifteen something dreadful happened. You fancied him.

Sure, in theory it sounded great but there were so many awkward moments. After all you were only fifteen. You couldn’t help that your face went beat red when he gave you a necklace for your birthday and when he told you that you looked ‘pretty’ one day you could barely muster out a thank you, you were so shocked.

You did your best to shove it down and pretend everything was normal over the years, but the crush never went away. You got better at hiding it. you had to as you’d grown closer over the years. Since Sansa had no interest in horse riding you were left to go with the trio, as you called them, instead. It soon became one of your favourite past times and you quickly grew close with the three boys. Especially Robb.

You figured it was a good idea especially as the talks of your marriage began cropping up more frequently. Your parents started pushing you to go on chaperoned excursions to markets and walks through the gods’ woods. They had no clue, or at least pretended, about the unchaperoned ones. Often you disappeared into the gods wood for some peace or the fields behind Winterfell to race. Robb began to bring food in his satchel so your excursions could turn into late lunches in the few sunny days of Winterfell.

“I definitely won,” he grinned as he dismounted his horse.

“Yeah right,” you scoffed as you jumped down, “you cheated,”

“How?”

“You went before I said go!”

“It’s three, two, one, go on one,”

“No, it’s not. Its three, two, one, go,”

“As in go already I said one,”

“As in you’re a cheat,” you huffed as you sat down against a thick oak tree.

Robb laughed at your antics as he sat down beside you, pulling his satchel out, “Truce?” he offered as he pulled out a parcel of sandwiches.

You pretended to think it over before nodding, “Truce,” For a few moments you sat in silence eating the sandwiches before you finally decided to tell him the news that had been weighing over you for the past week. “My mother sent me a raven,”

“Oh?” Robb paused, mid bite with concern written on his face. Your father sent you letters on a weekly basis but so far, your mother had only sent three since you left. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, well, I think so. I’m not sure,” you paused for a moment before just blurting it out, “She’s coming next week. With a seamstress,” Robb stared at you confused, “For the wedding,”

“Oh,” the word shattered your heart. While you had become friends over the year neither one of you ever spoke about the impending nuptials. Sure, you wanted to marry him, but you were terrified. Not of marriage. He was a good man. He would treat you right whether he wanted this marriage or not. But that’s when the fear came in. what if Robb could never love you? “Aren’t most girls excited about fancy dresses?” he tried to joke, lighten the mood like he always did. Its what he always did whenever the wedding was brought up. Play it off, make a joke, laugh. It was all an awkward joke to him.

“I suppose, Sansa will be,” you laughed. She really had become like a sister to you over the years, “I suppose though this means it will be arranged soon,” you tried to look at him, but Robb just stared down at his food. “Unless we escape somehow,” you joked, copying his defence mechanism.

He looked up a smiled a little, “Quick you grab the horses, I’ll pack the bag. We’ll ride at dawn,” he joked.

“Imagine. Take all the back roads till we get to Riverrun,”

“Bribe the Frays into letting us cross,”

“Then straight down to Dorne,”

“Sounds like a plan,” he smiled, knocking his knee against yours. “Jon would never forgive me if I left him behind,”

“Him and Arya can come with. We’ll become sellswords,”

“Sounds like we’ve got it all planned out,”

-

When you returned to Winterfell Catelyn ran up to you both in a tizzy, “Where have you both been?” she whispers shouted, smiling at a passing lord before scouring, “A messenger from the king has arrived,”

You knew she meant well but your stomach dropped. you both followed her to the hall but soon the sorrowful look on your face was replaced by a grin, “Uncle Tyrion,” you rushed up to him immediately.

“Ah my favourite niece. Finally returned from some dingy pub I assume,” he joked though Cat couldn’t help but frown a little. They were both protective just in their own ways. “Don’t worry I’m not here to stay long. Just come down on your father’s behalf to organise the wedding. Speaking of, Lord Stark I do believe this is the first time we’ve met,” he extended a courteous nod to a very nervous looking Robb.

“Lord Tyrion,” he bowed.

“It goes without saying if you hurt my niece, I will have to have my men kill you,” he said, head tilting to the side making Robb gulp, “But other than that it’s lovely to meet you,” he grinned widely like a jester.

“Don’t tease him uncle,” you shook your head, but Tyrion just laughed, “I’d say you’ll get used to him, but no one has so far,”

“You’re so kind niece, truly,” he laughed, “Now onto business The king has organised his travels and shall be in Winterfell by the first of next month so we shall have to act swiftly,”

Panic set on all three of your faces. Though Robb and yours was far different than Catelyn’s. “My lord that’s awfully soon. We may not have the provisions to afford so many guests so soon- “

“No fear my lady. I was also sent with my father’s gold. No Lannister shall have anything less than a golden affair,” you could see the relief melt from Catelyn but yours was just setting in.

-

For the next three weeks every discussion you had was about the wedding. cakes, flowers, food, music, dresses, veils, and most daunting of all; organising the preparation for Robb’s and yours new chamber. Tyrion even sent a seamstress to your room to organise an outfit for your wedding night. It was all quickly becoming too much.

You’d barely even seen Robb since the planning began. There was no time to calm down and no one to remind you to breathe. That was his job. Whenever you got nervous, he would gently grab your wrist under the table, running his thumb over the back of your hand. But he was nowhere to be found.

You eventually managed to find Jon who told you Robb was under the same stresses. His mother had him arranging with traders and mingling with the growing number of lords appearing at Winterfell’s gates. “Suppose this is the stresses of being a lady,” Jon joked.

It was only then it hit you. Soon this whole castle would be yours to run. How would you ever have time to breathe let alone enjoy your husband’s company if he would even have you.

Despite missing your family, the night before their arrivals, you cried quietly in your chamber. Their arrival tomorrow only marked the three remaining days you had left as a maid. Perched on an open windows ledge, the cold air stung your cheek but at least as you watched the birds fly you could feel a little of their freedom.

Then there was a quiet but rapid knocking. The faint sound brought your attention to the door which was shut less than a second after it was opened. “Hey sorry I’ve not come sooner- “Robb’s voice entered the room, for some reason making your tears sting more. Robb shivered from the cold, “Why’s the window open? You’ll freeze princess,”

Robb rushed to your side, leaning past you to shut the glass to preserve what little heat he could. His confusion fell from his face when he saw your tears, “What’s the matter?” his voice was soft and tender as he sat across from you to hold your hands, his thumbs stroking over the back on them.

“I don’t know,” you lied in a whisper.

Robb knew. He always knew when you lied. He just nodded gently though. “I’ll start a fire,” he was on his feet again.

“I can fetch someone if you wish- “

“But I’m already here,” he teased as he knelt by the fireplace.

As he got to work in silence you padded across the floor. The stone floor felt like ice against your bare feet making you quicken your pace till you could sit on the small sofa in front of the fire Robb had started. “Easy, see,” he said, joining you on the couch, “We’ll get a heat in you,”

“Thanks,” you sniffled.

You sat in an easy silence though when you left out another sigh Robb was compelled to place an arm around your shoulder. You leant into his touch, your head rested on his shoulder and his on yours. A few moments passed before he spoke, “Jon said you were asking for me,”

You weren’t sure why you tensed, “I just worry sometimes,”

“I know,”

You couldn’t stand the next silence that followed so made a joke, “Thought you’d ran away,”

“Without you?” he said, pulling back to grin back at you, “Nah we have a deal princess. Say the word and I’ll get the horses,”

His smile made your stomach drop. It all felt like one big tease, “I thought,” you began to stutter, “You may have been running from me,”

Robb’s face fell, “Why would I do that?”

You sighed, turning to face the flames again as the tears threatened to spill, “It’s not like you chose this marriage. You weren’t exactly ever given the option. I wouldn’t blame you if you objected to it,” you muttered.

When he pulled away you could’ve sobbed but it was quickly replaced by confusion when he knelt in front of you, “Why would I object? all I desire is to be a good and faithful husband to you and may gods help me I will be. I wouldn’t desire another option if I was given a thousand,”

“Why?” you could feel venom briming in your voice, “Because my dowery? Because the king commanded it?”

The hurt on his face felt like a stab to the gut but his words only twisted the knife, “Because I love you,” he took your hands in his, “and I understand that you don’t feel that way for me and may never, but nothing will stop the way I- “

You didn’t even realise you’d moved till you pulled back from the kiss. Without thinking your lips had found his and now you stared into his eyes. It only lasted a second before Robb lusted forward, reconnecting the kiss into a messy, desperate thing.

As you felt him raise, you followed, standing to kiss him as his arms wrapped around your back, pulling you flush against him. Your hands rested on his shoulders, now fully able to appreciate his strength.

You wanted more but he pulled away, your lips chased his making Robb breathe out a laugh. “You’re something else,” he muttered, a grin on his face, “I can’t imagine not wanting to be with you,”

This time your arms tightened, burying your head into his neck as you hugged him close. Robb followed suit, his muscular arms keeping your warmer than the fire, “I feel the same way,” you eventually managed to stutter out, “But I- “

“You don’t have to say it,” he mumbled, kissing the top of your head, “I understand,”

“How did I get so lucky?” you pulled back to smile up at him.

He just smiled back, “I ask myself that each night,”

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@kimm4710

[stvrnzcherries]

A TASTE

c. sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: Three strikes, two times Chris didn’t lean into the temptation and one time you both let go your deepest desires after you got into a fight with your boyfriend Matt, Chris’ brother.

warnings: soft dom!Chris, smut, a little angst, pet names, use of y/n, swearing, cheating (why would you do that?), use of drugs, making out, unprotected sex (don’t be silly), choking, toxic relationship, masturbating, oral sex (female receiving), praise kink and fingering.

word count: 4k

a/n: If you checked that I haven't posted for like a month, no you didn't.

not proofread!

01.

Your relationship with Matt has gotten worse during the past two months, he will get angry out of nowhere throw a tantrum over you, and ignore your texts for the rest of the day or even the entire week.

ME

Fuck you, I fucking hate you, Matt.

The last text you sent to Matt and yet he hasn’t even replied to it. You hated him, you hated the fact that you couldn’t even break up with him because you were too attached to him.

Too attached to the idea of him being fixable, of being the version that he could be back again. The version of him that you fell in love with the first time you laid eyes on him.

The blunt on your hand wasn’t making this job of ‘forgetting’ your boyfriend any easier, it made things easier to cope, sure but it wasn’t doing what you needed to.

Move on.

Forget him.

Looking at yourself in the mirror across your room, you can see the traces of smoke flying away from your mouth, the dim light of the moon making those remarkable. The smell of weed intoxicates your lungs and senses, that sweet sound of being in a pool underwater filling your ears delicately.

You picked up your phone once more and yet no answer from him, the frustration getting more and more annoying for your fatigued brain. “Fuck…” You muttered as you placed the joint between your lips and inhaled a long puff of it.

Looking back at the ceiling, an idea came out of nowhere. Well, not out of nowhere since you've done this a couple of times so that Matt can notice you and forgive you for whatever nonsense he got mad for.

An idea that always worked but you hated.

Being closer to the mirror across the floor, sitting on the cold floor as your phone flashes to your figure revealing a white laced lingerie set on you, your thighs, hips, and waist being three things that are prominent from your body.

Looking at the photos that you took, you decided to send those to your boyfriend waiting for a response, you even added a small caption saying ‘Let me make it up to you.’

As soon as you sent those pictures, a notification popped up on your phone, and you eagerly checked if Matt answered.

And that's when you felt your blood pressure descend at an incredible pace when you opened to check.

CHRIS

Shit

Y/N????

I think you sent it to the wrong triplet, baby.

ME

Shit

Sorry Chris, I thought I sent it to Matt

CHRIS

Not answering you again?

ME

yeah…

CHRIS

He’s been in a mood tonight, so.

But don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll text you in the morning

Btw

Wanna join me tomorrow night for a quick smoke?

Bought the good stuff yesterday.

ME

Sounds good, count me in xx.

Even though your best friend didn't make this situation such a big deal, it felt like that for you. What if he tells Matt and twists the entire story? What if Matt ignores you for the rest of your life? The paranoia consumed you, eating you alive, biting your nails you send the pictures to Matt, double checking if you are sending this time to the right triplet.

You place your phone on the bedside table next to you, staring at the ceiling again.

What if you didn’t want to send those to Matt? What if something deep down in you wanted to be seen by someone else?

Someone who will give you the attention that you crave?

02.

The headboard bangs against the wall, your moans filling Matt’s ears making his cock twitch inside you each time he thrust deep back inside you. Meanwhile, you were cock drunk after coming like two times already, you could barely say a word other than just emitting sounds every time Matt pounded relentlessly abusing your red, swollen cunt.

Drool pooling over the pillow underneath your face, you could feel the strands of hair sticking to the corners of your face “F-fuck b-baby…” You panted letting your head fall once again against the pillow and closing your eyes as Matt came to his thrill. His thrusts became sloppier within seconds and his grip on your hips got tighter.

You felt the burning sensation once again on your lower stomach indicating that you were also close to your own high, you squelched your walls around his shaft gaining a groan from him. “Cum for me.” He demanded sneaking a hand into your throat and gripping it delicately while his other hand gripped your ass before giving it a hard smack making you squeal.

Not even a split second after the knot in your stomach snaps and you release, your juices covering Matt’s dick, and some spilled over his bed making a big mess between the both of you.

The sweet sound of wet skin slapping skin is like music to your ears, the warm feeling of Matt being deep inside your pussy makes you salivate even more than you already were.

Your mind was fuzzy from the sensitivity of Matt abusing your cervix, you barely noticed when his load shot into your insides, painting your walls with his hot seed.

The noise was too much, the moans were uncontrollably loud and the massive boner Chris had was killing him slowly. As he was lying flat on his back staring blankly at the ceiling while he waited for the noises to stop.

He could feel his dick begging for being touched, for some sort of contact with anything. The only running thought wandering through his mind was you and only you.

He wanted to feel your lips against his, those soft lips that he could remember very well every time you wrapped them around the joints that you both shared once in a while. He could imagine how those lips must feel around his cock, how he could make you moan ten times harder than his brother ever could.

Fuck.

‘I’m so fucked for thinking this way.’ He thought to himself.

But he can’t help it.

Sneaking painfully slow his hand through his clothed dick he could feel his precum spurt all over his tip and inner thighs, the contact of his cold fingers against the base of his arousal as soon as he cupped his hand around it, his pace was slow and careful until he heard the most intense moan coming out from upstairs he has ever heard his entire life causing him to fasten up his speed with his hand.

The groans and whimpers that were slipping out of his mouth were uncontrollably loud but he couldn’t give two fucks about it, he didn't care if you could hear him or Matt, he needed it, he needed you deep inside him feeling your tight walls wrapping around his shaft until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“mm- Y/N” He moaned, his eyes squeezing shut and his head falling backward as his hand edged him to his release, his heartbeat increasing incredibly fast as his hand moved up and down, his thumb running circles on the tip.

A slight burning sensation hit on Chris’ lower stomach causing him to clench his jaw as he felt his release. His hot seed leaked all over his hand. His chest heavily moving up and down as he removes his hand from his sensitive cock, his mind all fuzzy from the ecstasy that he just got.

He was so fucked up.

03.

“So this is the reason you’ve been treating me like shit for days?!” You spat sourly at Matt whose tears were all over his eyes. You’ve been staying over for the past three days and you thought things got better between you and Matt.

Seems like it was all an act to cover his lies, his disgusting lies. “I’m sorry…you have no idea of how I’ve been feeling the last couple weeks….” He replied wiping his tears away.

“No, no, no, no you don’t get to pull the victim card on me! I’m sick of your bullshit, we’ve been fighting for months just because you felt guilty for fucking another girl?” Your voice cracked each time you jumped back into the subject.

You knew Matt was a total idiot but not the kind of idiot to cheat on you.

Not the kind of idiot to blame it on the alcohol, not the kind of idiot to do something wrong twice or even a third time, not the kind of idiot to treat people like shit just because of repressed feelings.

“She didn’t mean anything to me! I know I was fucked up for pulling this shit but I regret it, so bad and I’m sorry.” His voice also cracked, the tears breaming down his cheeks, he looked genuinely hurt, and that made this more fucked up than it already was.

You shook your head, the rage was more intoxicating than anything “If she didn’t mean anything to you, you wouldn’t have done it three times and even worse blamed it on the fucking alcohol!” You shouted as your index finger pointed at him moving it up and down repeatedly when each sentence came out of your mouth.

“I know, I know I’m fucked up, alright? But this mistake doesn’t mean that we have to end things.” He said, the stuttering of his voice getting worse every time he watched your reaction.

“You’re so fucked up, Matt. You’re fucking unbelievable, we’re over.” You said sternly, walking out of the room, you felt your hands trembling the anxiety devouring your mind and body, your heart pounding as if it was going to explode any second, your blood pressure descending incredibly fast, your breath hitching each time the tears warned to advert from your eyes.

The thoughts on your mind got interrupted by something or someone abruptly stopping your steps, you look up to see Chris murmuring a curse and picking up something from the floor. Looking back at you, his face shifted to an annoyed expression from a worried one. “Y/N? Baby, what's wrong?” He asked, his hand gently resting on your shoulder now while his thumb caressed it.

That's when you can't handle your emotions anymore, the tears rolling down your cheeks as if you had a waterfall coming out from you, instantly his arms wrap around you rubbing your back gently as his voice soothes you, “Shhh, everything is going to be alright, sweetheart.” He murmured as he placed a soft kiss on your head, the tears kept falling at a slow pace now, gaining puffiness in your under eyes.

“Why don't we go to my room so you can relax? Hm?” He asked pulling back from you as his arms still wrapped around you, his fingers now brushing delicately the strands of hair that attached to your cheeks, your vision blurry from the tears that kept falling continuously.

The dynamic between you and Chris has always been something else, hanging out with Chris made you feel different than hanging out with Matt and Nick, it felt like you two were made to understand each other without the need to communicate, it was as if he could read your mind and you could read his mind and it was a connection that Matt never liked.

Either the fact that he always accused you that someday you might cheat on him with his brother or the fact that he could never get that kind of bond with you, maybe that was the reason he cheated on you or maybe he just wanted to take those repressed feelings on another girl's pussy.

But at this point, you didn't care at all, the joint that Chris was carrying when he saw you a few minutes ago was having its effects on you and you never felt more relaxed than you were right now, “So let me get this shit straight, he just admitted that he was fucking someone else and he expected that you forgave him?” Chris retorted taking a large puff from the perfectly rolled cherry-flavored joint he had between his index and middle finger.

You replied with a nod as Chris let the smoke out of his lungs a small trail of it escaping from his lips, you had to admit he looked a little too good when you both were smoking, it was a scenario that you couldn't describe at all. He passed you the joint as you took a long puff, letting the effects relax your thoughts.

Chris scoffed before speaking “Matt can be my brother and everything but I've seen the way he treats you, the kid is an asshole and doesn't deserve someone as beautiful as you.” His eyes bore into yours for a moment before taking the joint off your hand to give another puff to it.

Beautiful?

You couldn’t believe the words that came out of his mouth and it seemed that neither did he because the puff that he took almost got him choking out, the coughs escaping uncontrollably from his mouth as he was trying to search for his water bottle.

You giggled a little seeing the way he chugged the bottle at an amazing pace as he held back the coughs that warned to get out of his mouth, “Are you okay?” You asked as you tried to hide the sheepish smile from your face.

“Yeah, it’s just—” Chris interrupted himself to take another gulp from the bottle, “I took a long ass puff and my lungs were at the edge of collapsing.” You both cracked up, the weed kicking in incredibly fast, the sensation of being high washing you over once again.

“What we were even talking about?” He was the first to talk after a hot minute of laughter between the both of you, “I’m not sure, but I can remember very well that you said that I’m beautiful.” You teased him as you took the joint out of his hand and inhaled more of the content of it.

He rubbed his eyes before looking down, the pink tint on his cheeks started popping out, “Don’t do this to me.” He babbled nervously while fidgeting with his fingers.

“Do what?” You retorted playfully as you got closer to him, the sound of the wheels of the chair you were sitting on echoing in the space, you grabbed his chin softly lifting it so his eyes could meet yours once again, the blue hue losing up a bit by his dilated pupils.

“This, whatever this is. Don't do it.” He spat out, his tone a bit resentful as he expected to sound, his eyes shifting to your lips, his pursing in a thin line, that sensation that he had just a few nights ago, that thought coming back to him, the thought of your sweet lips against his, the thought of your moans making his crotch twitch against his sweatpants.

He needed you and as far as this seems you needed him too.

Something in common that can be easily done.

He didn’t hesitate to kiss you, he was eager to taste your lips for ages and it drove him crazy. He placed his hand right above your jaw, his thumb caressing your jugular vein that felt like it was going to explode any second, electric waves of adrenaline going down his spine. You gave him easy access for his tongue to slide into your mouth, and the clicking sound between kisses flooded your ears. Your hands flew to his hair grabbing a handful of it, messing it up as his hands moved to roam over your body; the kiss getting sloppier, and your breaths heaving by the amount of time this had been going on.

Chris began to attack your neck, trailing wet kisses around it as he lowered them further getting to your lower stomach, his eyes scanning every faction of your face, on the other side was a load of nerves.

What if Matt finds out?

Cheating on him wasn't a good way to get on his nerves, not even when it came to cheating with someone as close as his brother. And neither it was a good idea to fuck him while you were still wearing one of Matt’s shirts, his favorite one.

But this felt right, felt like it was meant to be.

However, you couldn't help but feel the guilt wash you over, “Chris, we shouldn't…” You spat out, your face contorted into a worried expression.

He kept playing with the hem of the black shirt, his eyes lingering from your eyes to your thighs “Why now?” His voice was deep now, a smirk showing off as clear as the crystal on his face.

You couldn't help but feel soaked to his response, your words coming out sloppier “Because I’m your brother’s girlfriend…” You replied nervously, he just scoffed softly the air hitting your legs delicately.

He looked at you before lifting your oversized shirt and spreading your legs wide open taking the sight of your soaking wet pussy, “Ex-girlfriend, baby.” He kisses your thighs, getting closer to where you need him most. “Do you think he deserves to taste you after what he did?” He kept getting higher and higher, his fingers grazing the waistband of your panties before pulling them down harshly.

He tsks before articulating his last sentence, “Now it's my turn to have a taste.” His mouth now making contact with your wet folds, his tongue trailing along your slick before sucking it, your head rolled back resting on the headrest as you let out the loudest moans you've ever had, your hand instantly gripping onto his hair as Chris kept devouring you.

Groans leaving his mouth, the vibrations cursing through your insides making the knot inside you get tight each time his tongue swirls around your sensitive nub. “F-fuck.” you panted, your tongue being dry from the amount of pleasure you feeling at this moment.

Chris’ fingers make contact with your entrance, his index and middle fingers sliding deep inside you as his tongue keeps working on your nub hungrily. Pornographic moans came out of you as soon as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them to hit that sweet spot of yours.

While you were ecstatic about the number of sensations you were having right now, Chris was enjoying the sight of you completely melting for his touch, his deprived touch, the way his tongue and fingers were driving you insane, and it was only making him harder and harder through his pants.

This was the moment he was waiting for his whole life, the moment where he could make you moan ten times louder than his brother ever could, the moment where he could claim you, the moment where he could make you feel good for the first time.

The moment when he gets to taste you, to see all of you.

Your walls clench on his fingers, the burning sensation in your stomach ready to snap any second as Chris works his way to make you cum for the first time in the night.

“Mmm—, y’like that?” He whispered as he pulled away, his other hand reaching out to rub your clit now as he kept fingering you, his tongue going back to trace circles.

You hummed in response, letting out a curse before the knot snapped, your juices dripping all over his face, a proud smirk smeared all over his face as he licked every single drop of your sweet liquid. Your chest heavily moved up and down as you tried to regain your composure, the grip that you had on his hair loosening up.

“You taste even better than I could ever imagine.” He said, sliding his fingers out of you a popping sound as he did so, and you squeezed your thighs by the sensitivity of the aftermath.

Chris leans to kiss you once again, this time it is rougher than the previous one, you can taste yourself on his tongue. Your hand places now on his hard-on, palming it through his sweats as you try to pull them down.

His hand stops you, pulling back to whisper in your ear, “You wanna fuck me? Hm?” He said, his tone dominant yet soft and caring.

You nodded desperately smashing your lips against his once again, his hands traveling to your waist as he picked you up and pushed you down to his bed, climbing on top of you in the process.

He signals you to take off Matt’s shirt and you don't even hesitate to think about it leaving the shirt tossed somewhere around the room, Chris' mouth moving to suck on your right tit and use his hand to draw circles on your left nipple, your back arching from the new sensation you've got.

You reached for his hoodie pulling it out of him as he helped you through the process, throwing it somewhere in the room as he kept working on your tits, his mouth switching sides to stimulate your nipples well enough.

There it was, once again that wave of pleasure hit your nerves once again.

Chris removes his sweatpants along with his boxers, his hardened dick hitting his happy trail as he did so, his tip now grazing against your swollen cunt making you flinch at the sensitiveness of your previous release.

He picked up one of your legs and rested it on his shoulder, the tip now making contact with your entrance sliding in slowly, his hand stroking your leg in the process.

His pace was slow and steady at the start, waiting for you to adjust to his size fully. You must admit that he was bigger than Matt and it felt ten times better than it has ever felt with his brother.

His pace picked up quickly, and his tip was now abusing your cervix sweetly, his cock was now pumping in and out of you at an ungodly pace, this angle that Chris had you on makes you see stars.

The moans coming out of you echo through the whole room, your hands gripping the sheets for dear life as Chris keeps thrusting in and out of you harshly, the sensation in your lower stomach returning faster than it did before.

Chris on the other hand was kissing your leg, his mind all fuzzy from your tight pussy, he could cum right there and right now but he knew that wouldn’t be the best timing ever. “You’re doing so good for me, baby. Taking me so well.” He whispered gently, his thrusts still going harshly.

You started to scream out loud his name, his hand went to your mouth to lower the screams “We can't let Matt hear, do we?” He said, the well-known knot getting tight, your mind was foggy from the raw ecstasy you were experiencing right now.

“So so close.” He groaned feeling your walls clench around his shaft his release getting closer.

That's when you felt the knot snap once again, a squeal escaping from your lips as your juices coated his dick, the overstimulation hitting as soon as Chris kept pumping in and out, tears forming in your eyes.

“Where do you want it?” He moaned as he looked down at you, his hand that was situated in your mouth slipping out to pick up a faster pace to reach for his high.

“Mmm-, inside.” You babbled, feeling his cock twitching inside you and then his hot liquid filling you up. Before he pulled out he gave a few slow thrusts, collapsing beside you on the bed as you both tried to catch your breaths.

Chris moved closer, cuddling with you now as he stroked your hair gently, “You did so well.” He kept whispering praises at you, causing you to smile slightly.

“We should get you cleaned up, baby.” He mutters giving your shoulder a peck before he walks into the bathroom to pick up a towel returning to you as he cleans your inner thighs.

“Thank you.” You whispered at him before you shifted into your sleep.

a/n: Was this a good comeback y’all? Bc I hope so, I’ve been reading a few requests and I promise I’ll be working on them soon! I rather do a good job writing each request instead of uploading trashy stuff (quality over quantity). Btw, I’ve been asked to write a third part for Brutal but tbh I don’t feel like writing anymore about Brutal, just lmk if you guys think it’s worth it to write a third and FINAL part of Brutal. BYEEE LOVE YALL (we’re so close to 500 wtf)

Tag list: @sturniolossss @tillies33ssss @chrisloyalgf @alorsxsturn @sturnioloslurps @cindylcuwhoknows @3mm4yung @chrissfavwh3re @blahbel668 @lov3bug @starsturns234 @junnniiieee07 @mstarniolo @sara2233445 @teenagetrash00 @mattsturnioloisbae @mbbsgf @thecynthh @braindead4l @freshsturns @lexisecretaccx @wh0resstuff

[sttoru]

hmmm what if gym sex with gym owner/instructor toji fushiguro. you know, they be fucking by machines and stuff 🫨🫨🫨

𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐒 𝐀 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 . . . !

⟣ sypnosis. you thought it’d be just another day of you at the gym with your gym instructor, toji—though things were quick to escalate into a different kind of ‘workout’.

⟣ tags. gym instructor!toji fushiguro x female reader. exhibitionism, public, p in v unprotected, standing doggy ig, spanking, hair pulling, teasing, sprinkle of objectification / degradation, creampie, no to little aftercare, kinda pervert!toji as well. reader gets called ‘doll’.

⟣ note. yummyyumyummm.. this made me think of this ask t sent me & this fanart i need him so bad t_t not proofread btw. !

you were a newbie to the gym—your usual workouts consisting of the most simple sets; jumping jacks, burpees, crunches, squats, planks and push ups. an acquaintance of yours attends the same sports club and recommended you a certain gym instructor who works there most of the time.

his name was toji and apparently was good enough at his job for many other gym attendees to hire him in. you did the same and had started a few sessions with him earlier that week. toji was patient and quick to give you the needed feedback and advice on your workouts — a nice guy.

though, he did seem a bit intimidating, especially due to the fact that he was extremely bulky. your stomach did a flip once you first saw that dark-haired man.

the black tank top he wore almost every other day, his muscles that flex with each movement, the scent of his cologne you could smell whenever he got close and nonchalantly adjusted or corrected your form; that guy was more than simply attractive.

as your mind wandered and daydreamt about your gym instructor, your body was doing its needed squats. up and then down, inhale and exhale, tense and relax—you were on autopilot.

what you didn’t notice, due to the music blasting in your ears, was that toji had been wandering around the area. it was almost time for your own session with him where he’d do some cardio with you.

toji sipped on his water bottle, lazily approaching you from behind, your backside towards him. he looked around for a bit—this specific section of the gym was nearly empty at this hour of the day. except for you, him and. . . a random guy who was lifting weights in a far away corner.

toji’s eyes couldn’t help but flicker from your exposed shoulder blades to the curve of your ass whenever you squatted. it was very much intentional; not for the sake of checking on your squatting form, but more for the sake of his own needs.

it was like that almost every time he’s training with you—the gym instructor cannot resist the urges of subtly checking out that body of yours. more specifically, the curves of it. he could get a bit handsy when teaching you how to get the gist of a certain exercise.

you were a bit oblivious to this, because you thought that it was simply just toji doing his job. gym instructors were meant to help you along the way—instructing somebody and helping them get into the desired position by appropriately touching their body was part of that process. . . right?

you don’t know, but you also didn’t care. his touch on your thighs when he was correcting your form that other day, the way his big and veiny hands were gently holding your flesh; it was just way too appealing. even if he was doing his job, there was an undeniable attraction hanging between the two of you.

you couldn’t even count the many times where you ‘accidentally’ bumped into him at the gym just to hold a short conversation. toji’s eyes were everywhere—the sight of you out of breath, sweating whilst trying your best to look pretty when talking to him stirred his loins.

the dark-haired man knew you purposefully come and talk to him after each session. he knew that you always try to look confused in the gym when experimenting with a new machine just to catch his attention. toji knew all about your ‘innocent’ acts and yet he was falling for them. hard.

you were too good at that game of seduction and if it wasn’t for him risking the loss of his job, he’d have fucked you long ago. he’d have satisfied both your desires right at the gym with everyone seeing—he craved for a taste of you. he needed it. sooner or later.

so, toji took his chance. ‘it was now or never,’ he told himself as he approached you from behind. his presence was only sensed by you when his hands came in touch with your body.

one hand pressed onto your lower back slightly, the other on your upper thigh, fingertips digging onto the fat to help it slightly backwards, pushing your hips towards him—

“how many times do i have to tell ya, hm?” toji’s raspy voice whispers in your ear, his figure looming over yours making you feel caged between him and the treadmill you were facing whilst squatting, “arch your lower back just a tad bit more, push y’r hips back properly—mhm, jus’ like that. good, very good.”

you surprisingly do as told even whilst you were caught off guard by toji’s sudden appearance. your heart was beating out of your chest by the proximity of your bodies like this; your palms were getting sweaty. and not from your workout.

“y’re definitely gettin’ the hang of it.” your gym instructor comments, a faint hint of pride in his tone. he retracts his hands from your body, however not before teasingly letting his fingertips brush against the bottom of your ass, feeling up its shape in that single second of contact— “how’s your workout been today?”

you knew that touch was intentional. there’s no other explanation to the lingering stare on your ass as well. his eyes shamelessly took in your thighs and hips as if he wanted to be all over them, to touch them like he’d longed for so long.

“good. was about to take a break.” you reply. truth was, you weren’t. you only said so since toji was chatting with you at the moment.

there was an evident tension between you two—the way you took a sip from your water bottle whilst your pretty eyes were focused on toji’s ripped physique, your gaze that darted from his eyes to his lips, chest, lower body and back up. . . that game of seduction had gone on for way too long. toji had to have you. right here, right now.

that’s how you ended up clinging for dear life onto the treadmill in the corner of the building, your leggings and panties pushed down to your knees and toji behind you with his hands using your hips as leverage—his cock finally having a taste of your warm insides after all this time of fantasising about it during your lessons with him.

“fuck. . knew this pussy’d be fuckin’ tight—almost can’t move due to how much y’re squeezing me, doll.” the man’s rough voice spoke out whilst your wet folds were spread apart to fit his cock all the way in, his size massive to the point it almost hurt, “there you go, takin’ it so well.”

your walls clamped around his dick like you didn’t want him to ever move out of you—like this moment was all you had wanted from your encounters up until now. toji curses under his breath at the sight he’s finally seeing;

you trembling whilst he was balls deep inside of your greedy cunt that swallowed every single inch, even if it stung. what made it even better of an achievement was the fact that your ass was properly in his view now, fat jiggling with each press of his hips against it.

“hnngh—fuck me.. ah, please!” your stifled moans almost make toji’s eyes roll back. he loved those sounds of pure pleasure that escaped your lips—the ones which you couldn’t contain behind that hand clamped around your mouth.

it was risky after all; fucking in an open gym. you didn’t know if that one guy on the other side of the area had already left or not. you couldn’t see through all those machines and pillars obstructing your view. you just went with the logic that if you couldn’t see him, he couldn’t see you.

toji—being the absolute tease that he is—had seen your eyes wander across the section of the gym you were in. oh, he didn’t like it one bit that your attention was on anything other than him and his dick slamming into your sloppy pussy;

he stopped his movements and torturously slid his cock out of you until the head was all what was left inside, prodding into you every now and then like he was going to slam it back fully, only for nothing to occur. toji bit the inside of his cheek; rough hand landing hard on the left side of your ass, the other side getting its turn a second after you whimper.

the process repeats which makes your back arch deeply, hips instinctively moving back and then forwards—basically fucking yourself on his cock. toji liked that desperation in you. that’s what he wanted to gain out of his actions.

“hah—ya can push those hips back properly now, ay?” your gym instructor exhales through his nose, hand traveling from your ass to your hair, yanking that low ponytail of yours back. his sharp eyes scanned your backside as if you were a piece of meat, his hips grinding against your ass, kneading the flesh with his pelvis, “remember this when y’re squatting again—the position of your back like this, the slight arch—fuck.”

even in a predicament like this, toji used it to teach you about your form during your squats. not that you knew what that man was saying. you were too focused on the way he was slowly stroking his dick in your pussy, wanting the tip to reach the deepest parts.

“shiitt,” toji sighs before a noise—almost a low whistle—forms in the back of his throat. the pleasure kept building up inside of him and he knew that he could cum just by a bit of grinding against that plump flesh of your ass, his balls rubbing against the curves of it, “this body of yours ‘s gonna make me lose my mind, doll.”

but, toji didn’t want to end it with that. he was here to give you the pounding of your life—teach you another lesson which was unrelated to your workouts; the lesson of what happens if you try to seduce a man like him.

toji wastes no time and grabs your hips again, angling his own to hit your g-spot with each rough thrust once he resumes the movements. each press to that sweet area makes your legs shake, lips moving frantically, though only incoherent and slurred words leave your lips in quiet moans;

“nghh! toji, ‘s too good!” you whine, your own hand still clamped around your mouth to keep yourself quiet. you were always vocal during sex, but it was a bit risky to let yourself go in a public space like this, “mmph!”

though, with the fact that you were getting the pounding of your life right now, there was no denying the fact that it was impossible to stay fully quiet. a few lewd moans escape—toji tugging at your hair each time as a warning,

“sshh, don’t w’nna get me fired, do ya?” the man behind you grins. he isn’t even worrying in the slightest that this moment was probably getting caught on the cctv camera footage in the gym.

toji could easily get rid of those himself since he works at the gym and has some internal connections, but it’d make it all so difficult if somebody were to catch you in the act, “if ya keep quiet, we’ll do this more often, yeah?”

you shiver at that promise. you could already imagine all the times you can have toji to yourself in the future; how he’ll press you to a bench and fuck you—or maybe he’ll even take you in bathrooms. it was such a turn on. that’s all what was needed to shut you up in an instant;

“good girl.” that gruff voice murmurs once more, the pressure in your stomach builds, the coils forming threatening to snap any minute now for both of you. toji’s self control was hanging by a thread.

that same thread snapped in half the moment you let out a whiny and vulnerable whimper in the form of his name. with one hard thrust, toji presses his hips firmly against your ass, grunting as he makes sure to dump his load the furthest he could—the warmth of the sticky liquid filling your senses eventually stimulated you enough to reach your own climax.

“easy there, doll.” your gym instructor thrusts once, twice before pulling himself out of you, leaving the mixture of fluids leaking down by your legs. he huffs at the sight, taking it in for a couple seconds whilst kneading your ass between his fingers.

toji grabs a tissue he had somewhere in the pocket of his sweatpants and wipes his tip before tucking himself back in his boxers—pulling his pants up and readjusting his appearance like nothing ever happened.

toji puts the used napkin in your shivering hand and nods at you. you were a pretty thing whilst fucked out of your mind, that he could indeed confirm in a singular moment of eye contact.

he sighs and leaves you to fend for yourself as he starts to walk towards the stairs that lead to the third floor, probably to take care of something. you never know what he’s up to when he’s not in the gym—a mysterious man.

before the gym instructor vanishes, he does leave you a hushed message on his way to the staircase, head cocked to the side to look at you from his peripherals whilst he walks;

“clean y’rself up and continue with your work out. will be back in a few to check in on ya.”

[wttcsms]

if you feel like falling (catch me on the way down) | TWO

ᝰ.ᐟ after getting your heart broken by professional soccer player, rin itoshi, all because he loved the game more than you, you officially swear off all men — especially athletes. your publicist doesn’t get that memo, though, and you find yourself roped into a fake relationship with yoichi isagi, who isn’t just a pro soccer player, but also your ex’s rival. things could get messy. ( fem!reader )

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pairing yoichi isagi x reader (endgame), past! rin itoshi x reader word count 5.9k chapter synopsis the busier your schedule, the less time you can spend thinking about rin. the only problem is, you see something you can't unsee. nothing a bottle of tequila can't fix, right? (spoiler: tequila isn't fixing a broken heart) chapter contains partying and drinking to cope, diet culture author’s notes i have nothing to insightful to add rn, but send me any asks discussing this fic and i will have a lot to say LOL

From: fumiko.gima@apextalentgroup.com To: [USER EMAIL HIDDEN] Cc: wfitch@everlanefitch.com, mai.sasaki@apextalentgroup.com, hideakitakeda@titansecuritysolutions.com, benji1968@gmail.com + 3 others Subject: 6/19 — [NAME] [SURNAME] AGENDA Attachments: 📎 [6.19 AGENDA.pdf]

All — 

Attached is the PDF copy of [Name]’s itinerary for today. Reminder that these times are STRICT. Stay on schedule. 

Fumiko Gima

Get Outlook for IOS 

Your first alarm goes off at 4:50 AM to what you assume is the noise they play on repeat in hell (By the Seaside, an Apple classic). After waking up, you roll over in your king size bed (the problem with always choosing to go big instead of just going home is the fact that when you’re all alone, the luxury of extra space just becomes empty space) to promptly hit the snooze button. You’ll allow yourself five more minutes of sleep (as a treat). When the second alarm you set up goes off at 4:53 AM (By the Seaside, once again), you scream into your pillow, and shut it off for real this time. You knew you weren’t going to give yourself the full five minutes, but it felt really good to trick yourself into believing that you would. You always start the day with this tiny disappointment; that way, no one has the privilege of being the first person to piss you off. 

At 4:54 AM, you slide your feet into your Ugg slippers, readjust the loose straps of your silk camisole, and shuffle into your marble-floored bathroom. You rub the sleep from your eyes, brush your teeth with your pink electric toothbrush, and wash your face. By the time you’re done with your morning skincare, it’s 5:06 AM. You honestly can’t remember the last time you did your own makeup, but you bring your makeup bag with you anyway. If there’s downtime between shoots, you’ll post a faux-GRWM TikTok where you apply three miniscule dots of concealer on your seemingly already flawless skin and add a fresh layer of the brand new, limited edition Rhode peptide lip treatment that Hailey Bieber’s team gifted you. They also gave you twenty grand to do so, with a personal “hey girlie, would love to catch up with you one of these days!! life has been so hectic, sorry for not keeping in touch x btw, i just came out with a new shade of my…” text from Hailey herself. (You replied back with a “yessss, we need to meet up soon!! Also, LOVE LOVE LOVE the new shade omg 😍” — neither of you have any intention for planning a meet-up, and you don’t “LOVE LOVE LOVE” the new shade as much as you “LOVE LOVE LOVE” to deposit a fat check.) 

You’re sliding into the backseat of the glossy black SUV parked in front of your driveway at 5:14 AM. Your chauffeur, Benji, holds open the door for you. 

“Good morning, Ms. [Surname],” Benji never drops the formalities with you, except for when he’s lecturing you. Thank God he doesn’t own a smartphone; if he saw half the things Daily Mail wrote about you, his voice would be gone from scolding you so much. Even if he’s technically on your parents’ payroll and is paid to make sure you get to and from places safely, it still feels nice to have someone who cares about you enough to call you out on your shit. 

The first stop is an exclusive, members-only pilates studio. If you’re home, you have to work out in the morning, no matter what. You like your routine. Out of all the things online magazines put out about you, it’s kind of embarrassing how the most accurate one is revealing how you stay “fit ‘n flawless even after going out every night.” Most people didn’t believe it. Rin got it, though. Rin would actually work out with you, when the two of your schedules aligned, and— Time to start your workout early! Nothing takes your mind off of matters more than focusing on the burn of your core and arms. 

By the time you finish your private session, you’re walking out the studio with your puffy tote bag slung over your shoulders. Your body is still a bit damp from taking a quick shower but not drying off properly, and Benji drops you off at your first business stop of the day — ELLE Japan.

You smile brightly as the team of makeup artists surrounding you shower you with compliments. One of the girls brushing on your foundation tells you that you have really nice skin. When she goes in for a second layer, you almost consider rescinding the thanks you gave her.

The set is hectic, as expected. No matter how long these people have been in the industry, no matter how big the host is, something always seems to be going wrong. Apparently, there’s been a mishap over in wardrobe, and ELLE’s people are not very happy with how this is going to delay everything. With your hair and makeup done, there’s nothing for you to do besides sit down, be quiet, and look pretty. 

Downtime is the last thing you want. You’re used to a busy schedule, but you convinced Fumiko to accept as many projects as possible. If you have to rank at the top of the list for celebrities who emit the most CO2, then so be it. You’ll pollute the whole damn planet if it means you won’t have a single second to be alone with your thoughts. 

At 9:00 AM sharp, you go on your phone to inform your manager that the agenda is fucked. ELLE Japan is definitely going to push back this session with you for at least a good hour, which means Fumiko is going to have to explain to Your Style (the YouTube channel name for a famous fashion commentator who’s amassed nearly twenty million subscribers) why you’re going to be late for the Zoom debrief on what you two are going to talk about in an upcoming video. At 9:02 AM, you receive a text.

juli ᡣ𐭩: u know i love u 

It’s two in the morning in Paris. When Juliette said she was going to visit her father, she said it was going to be a much-needed vacation — just something chill and lowkey, like going to all the designer stores and eating croissants on a balcony. Those were her exact words. 

juli ᡣ𐭩: [photo attachment] 

Somehow, from the neon strobe lights, bodies pressed against one another’s, and the way the image is blurry because she couldn’t get her phone to focus, it feels like Juliette’s “something chill and lowkey” morphed into club-hopping all over France. You roll your eyes with affection. You should’ve known her vacation was going to turn into this; as if Juliette would eat bread for pleasure — she’s been quoted for claiming that carbs are a necessary evil. She probably hasn’t even touched a croissant for the past week she’s been there.

juli ᡣ𐭩: showing u before TMZ posts it juli ᡣ𐭩: [video attachment] juli ᡣ𐭩: do not freak out. not worth it. juli ᡣ𐭩: ugh i knew this club sucked ass for a reason 

You wait for the video to load. It’s almost as blurry and unfocused as the original image she sent, but you can tell she had to zoom in pretty hard to capture what she wanted. It’s two figures with a minimal amount of space between them. One of them is definitely a girl; she has the build of the usual French models. A thin, leggy brunette who has mastered the intricate art of Just Had Sex hair. Perfectly messy, but could never be considered sloppy. She’s wearing a sparkly, tight minidress. The fabric shimmers when the strobe lights pass by her body. The person she’s practically pressed up against is a man. Tall, lean. He’s leaning down, presumably so he can hear her better. When the video clip ends abruptly (someone bumped into Juliette, and the video ends with shaky footage and a loud “putain!”), you replay it. And replay it. And then you play it again, just for good measure.

Each time you watch the stupid video, you find something new to notice. Her red lips brushing against his ear. The way his hand hovers near her hip. The way you’re certain she’s smiling when she speaks, like the smirk of a victor. The exact same self-satisfied, smug grin you sport whenever you get a guy right where you want him. Upon every rewatch, though, one thing remains the same: you’re constantly fixated on him.

Right now, it’s two in the morning in Paris. You know that when you weren’t in this fucked up headspace you’re in right now, you’d be in bed, snuggled underneath your blankets, by 11:30 PM. You know that when you felt your best, you could be in bed, whispering in the dark to the person you felt safest with, at 10:00 PM (at the latest, because you both would have a busy day ahead and needed the rest). He likes sleeping early because he likes being well-rested. 

So why the hell is Rin Itoshi at a club right now?

At 9:39 AM, ELLE Japan gets right back on track. Before your editorial shoot for a special anniversary edition of the magazine, they get you to sit down to do a video interview that they plan on posting all over their social media. 

“This is a very special edition that will be coming out, and you are not only having the biggest spread dedicated to you, but you’re also going to be on the cover. Knowing this, how are you feeling right now, [Name]? This might be the most high-profile photoshoot you’ve done so far in your career, and that’s saying something. You have quite the impressive resume.” 

The ring lights are shining directly in your eye. The stool they have you sitting on for this interview is uncomfortable, and you have to focus on remaining balanced. Your back is perfectly straight, and your hands are folded in your lap. You blink, and you see the video playing in your mind. You have God knows how much makeup caked on right now, and you still have a long day ahead of you. Rin is at a club right now. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl. Rin is at a club right now, with a girl, and they’re basically grinding against each other, and he might just have forgotten all about you.

You smile brightly. At 9:40 AM in Japan, you let everyone know, 

“I honestly think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been before in my life! This is a great way to establish a sort of, I guess, new era of my life and my career.” 

You turn to face the camera directly, giving them a dazzling view of your pearly whites. “Not trying to rush the process or anything, but I am definitely looking forward to seeing how this will all play out in the future.” 

You’re operating on autopilot for the rest of the day. The ELLE shoot wraps up close to noon. You forgo lunch, but knowing you and your tendency to skip meals, Benji refuses to start the car until you eat the lunch his wife packed for you. It’s light and refreshing — they want you to eat well, but they’re not cruel. Even if they want to bring you a feast of a nice, hot, home cooked meal, you’ll eat it out of obligation and then suffer the consequences on set when everyone asks why you’re so bloated. You don’t even taste what you’re consuming. 

At 12:30 PM, you hop on the Zoom call and pretend to care about discussing matters such as the lack of personal style affecting the younger generations. Every topic is a trivial topic to you. The only thing worth dissecting is that damn video. You should’ve asked those twenty million subscribers to help you analyze that, instead of nodding along when the YouTuber starts going on a rant about how Shein and other fast fashion brands are ruining everything. 

Late in the afternoon, you get another text. 

kenyu: So the team wants to host a belated birthday party for me lmao. Team’s planning on having it at 10 tonight kenyu: Sending you the address right now

A party is exactly what you need right now. Endless drinks, no need for rational thinking, and you’ll be (mostly) surrounded by people who think models are all vain and vapid. No one there is going to expect a decent conversation from you, and with the state you’re in, it’s a wonder how all your sentences are even making sense. 

You give Kenyu’s next message a like in response. You were expecting a club, but when you click on the address, Maps reveals that it’s residential. Rin is gallivanting around European nightclubs, and meanwhile, the best you can do are house parties. This is how the future is playing out? 

At least even at your worst, people still think you’re on top of the world. 

Maybe life without a man dragging you down and invading your space is for the best. After all, once you got done with all your professional obligations, it’s only eight at night. You’re used to going out with whatever makeup they did for you on set at your last shoot of the day, which is a shame. You have shelves full of makeup that’s been sent to you by different brands, and one of these nights, you plan on just messing around at your vanity. 

You like living alone, you decide. You can leave all the lights on if you want, and no one complains about it hurting their eyes. You have full control of the thermostat. You don’t have to fight for counter space in the bathroom. Plus, no one can see how you’re living. 

At 9:13 PM, you’re sprawled on the cool marble floor of your bathroom (squeaky clean thanks to the housekeeper you have come once a week), and instead of rewatching that dreadful video and subsequently crying, you had a quick retail therapy session. Your new Prada heels should be coming within the next two days. 

You don’t get Benji to drive you. Nobody bats an eye at a rich girl having a driver, but it does seem kind of weird to have him drop you off at a party as if you're a tween girl getting taken to the mall. If the house is owned by one of Yukimiya’s teammates, surely it won’t be too awkward if you had to leave it there because you got too drunk to drive yourself back home? 

Because — no offense to Yuki, you’re happy he’s getting another birthday celebration — the whole point of even going to this party is to get fucked up. You already know that Juliette had a point — if not TMZ, then at least Daily Mail will be all over Rin and that girl in the club. If that gets leaked, then you might as well have your own headline to combat his. Sure, lately you’ve been out partying, but that was with other models so it doesn’t raise too many eyebrows. Rin being caught at a club is basically him hard launching the breakup. You need to raise some speculation on your side of things, too. 

you: can you get someone to pick up my car from this address tomorrow morning? you: please :) 

When you see three dots appear, you smile for real. You can practically hear her sigh and see the shake of her head.

Fumiko Gima: Yes. Fumiko Gima: Be safe.

Aw, maybe your manager does have a heart. Right before you can send her a heart, she adds:

Fumiko Gima: Don’t stay out too late. You have your first shoot at 8 AM. 

This is the message you give a heart reaction to. Maybe everything really is just business with her. 

You suppose you can’t fault Fumiko for always seeming cold. She’s your manager, not your best friend. 

In this industry, her honesty is refreshing. You normally find this to be the case, but you really feel it now when you step into the mansion and hear a cacophony of laughter swarming you from all sides. At every turn, there’s a celebrity with a drink in hand. Everyone’s leaning towards each other, as if they’re so captivated with the other’s words. 

You see an actor leading a stumbling model up the spiral staircase. To your side, you see a baseball player chatting up the daughter of one of the baseball league’s board members. Upstairs, someone’s probably snorting a line off Yukimiya’s teammate’s bathroom counter. There are only three reasons why people in your social circle attend these parties: to get fucked, to get fucked up, or to make business deals. Considering the fact that you’ve been here for nearly five minutes and have yet to see a birthday cake — or the belated birthday boy himself — you’re pretty sure everyone here has lot the damn plot for the original celebration.

When you venture some more, you end up in the massive backyard. Some people are drunkenly making out in the pool, some people are watching them, and in a table in the corner, you spot a group of girls giggling and cheering as they all do shots. Perfect. This is exactly where you need to be. 

One’s a model; you’ve seen her on a couple pages you flipped through in Harper’s Bazaar. You go up to the table and give her a bright smile.

“Hey, girl! Or should I say Miss Bazaar?” You greet her like how you think people would tease a friend. She’s not your friend; you don’t even know her name. You know she knows your name — everyone here does. And it’s because of the fact that everyone knows you that she lights up when she realizes you’re speaking to her. 

A photo op with you guarantees that even if the headline coming out tomorrow is centered on you, she’ll still be in the frame. Daily Mail will add a caption naming everybody from left to right, and she’s planning on being the one captured right next to you. 

“[Name]!” She squeals, giving you a quick side hug. “How have you been?”

All your friends, the grand total of exactly two people, know how you’ve been. You grin, pointing to the bottle of tequila they have on their table. 

“After how this day has been, I honestly just need a shot.” You play it off like a joke, and as someone pours you one, you add, “Or maybe like five.” They all giggle before throwing back the tequila straight. They might think you’re joking, but this table full of strangers are the first people you’ve been honest with all day. 

At 12:15 AM, they aren’t strangers anymore. In fact, you think they might be your best friends in the whole world. You don’t know the lyrics to the rap song blaring through the bass boosted speakers, but you’re laughing as you take another shot. The Harper’s Bazaar girl is doing another shot with you, but she has her phone in her other hand. She makes sure that the both of you are in the frame together, and a second later, she’s tagging you in an Instagram story you don’t bother to view. You’re not even following her. 

“Okay, so out of all the guys here, who looks the most fuckable?” One of the girls leans on the table for support as she asks this question. You can’t help but notice how glittery her lipgloss is. Wow, even after all the shots she’s taken, there’s no transfer. Impressive. “I say Theo Sachs.” 

“Who the fuck is Theo Sachs?” Harper’s Bazaar asks, and the whole entire table giggles. Honestly, at parties like these, laughing comes easy. In fact, you’re giggling right with them, even though you also have no fucking clue who Theo is. There’s just something so freeing in tequila-induced joy. 

“Um, the host of this party?” Glittery Lipgloss says. “Oh my God, girl, he’s like, one of the players for Bastard.” 

“The fuck is Bastard?” Another girl asks, adjusting her blue minidress. 

“The soccer team!” Glittery Lipgloss is too drunk to be fed up, but you’re sure she would be rolling her eyes if she could. 

“I didn’t know we had soccer players here. I only saw baseball players.” Blue Minidress frowns, before adding, “I would totally fuck one of the baseball boys, though. No preference whatsoever. Matter of fact, I could take the whole team.” 

Harper’s Bazaar laughs. “What about you, [Name]? Who are you taking home tonight?” 

Before you can think of something to say, Glittery Lipgloss groans. “Oh my God, she has a boyfriend.” She looks at you for confirmation. You don’t give her any, but thankfully Blue Minidress has her own insight to add to this conversation. 

“So what the fuck does that have to do with her question? [Name], who are you taking home tonight?” 

Nobody. Out of every party you’ve gone to this past month, you went back home, completely and utterly alone each and every time. It’s not even because nobody offered — they have — but because no matter how lonely you may get or feel, you don’t like strangers in your space. It took you three months of dating Rin to let him into the penthouse you were originally staying in, and that was with you being in love with him. 

Once again, you’re saved from answering when someone behind you goes, “[Name]?” 

You turn around, only to come face to face with Yoichi Isagi. On second thought, maybe this isn’t the rescue you thought it was. Drunk You can’t hold back your frown when you see him. He’s wearing a dark blue polo shirt and chinos. He looks perfectly business casual and could pass off as an off-the-clock investment banker instead of the world class athlete you’ve heard he is. Then you let out a little snort of laughter, which only makes him look more confused. You don’t want to tell him that it’s kind of funny how normal he looks. 

Not in a bad way. You’re surrounded by models for practically the whole day. Looking unattainably hot or having ethereal beauty is the one non-negotiable job requirement. Even Rin, with his stupidly long lower lashes and impossibly high cheekbones and his pretty boy resting sulking face, is serving standards some male models can’t achieve. Isagi looks like the type of guy you would have a crush on if the two of you were completely normal and attended regular high school together. 

But that’s not the reality you’re living in. Right now, you’re getting drunk with girls you don’t know, and every night, you’re making headlines. He’s a professional athlete that everyone at this table would gladly fuck just for a chance to be declared social media’s favorite WAG of the Week. The both of you could have your pick of anyone at this party, but you refuse to let anyone in, and you think Isagi might be one of those intense athletes who only care about their sport.

If that’s the case, he’s doing every girl a favor by not pretending he can commit to anything but soccer. You know someone who could use a few pointers. 

“Hi,” you mumble, and then you want to slap yourself because why the fuck are you acting like you’re nervous? But for some reason, you feel like you're a kid caught with their grimy hand in the cookie jar, like you’re doing something wrong.

“I didn’t know you’d be here.” 

“Well, it’s Kenny’s birthday party. Of course, I’d be here.” You cross your arms against your chest, feeling like you have something to prove. Before Yukimiya became his teammate, Kenyu was your friend first. Like, real friend, not just someone you leave supportive comments on their Instagram post type of friend. 

Isagi actually smiles when he hears that. “Funny. I think everyone but Yukimiya actually wants to be here.” 

You sober up a bit when you hear that. “Yeah, I couldn’t find him anywhere.” Not that you looked very hard. The minute you found this table of girls, you didn’t bother exploring the rest of the mansion. 

“He was upstairs with some of the guys. You know that he, uh, doesn’t really like these types of parties.” He rubs the back of his neck awkwardly. 

“You don’t seem like the type to like these parties either.” If he was anyone else, you’d be saying this to flirt. You’re honestly not sure what your intention behind this comment was, either. You’re too drunk to decide if you wanted it to be an insult (some way to defend Yukimiya’s behavior?) or just you trying to make conversation for once (you’re not normally one for small talk). 

“Caught me.” Isagi smiles easily. From now and thinking back to Yukimiya’s birthday lunch, Isagi is rarely not smiling. You wonder if he means it. Surrounded by people who only let you drink with them because being seen with you elevates their own status, you decide that the answer to that is a probably not. “I was about to head out before I thought I saw you, and I wanted to come by and…” For a second, he pauses to choose the right words to say. “Just wanted to see if it really was you.”

“Well, you saw me. Guess your business is done here.” Then you swiftly turn your back to him, as if to abruptly end the conversation. Instead, you’re drunker than you realize, and your heel ends up being wedged deeper into the grass than you expected, and you lose your balance. You think you might fall, which would be so embarrassing, but maybe not as embarrassing as what actually ends up happening.

What actually ends up happening is that Isagi is quick to wrap his arm around your abdomen, pulling you close to him as he attempts to keep you steady and upright. The girls looked shocked, but then they burst into another round of giggles, and since you’re not joining in the laughter, all you can think about is how annoying they are. You squirm around in his grasp, ignoring the whiff of fresh laundry you get from being all up in his personal space (not by choice!!!; he’s the one that pulled you in, after all!), and he releases you. 

“Are you feeling okay?” He asks you. It’s hard to glare at him when he looks so genuinely concerned. 

“Never better.” 

“Do you have a ride home?” 

What does it matter to you? Is what you want to say. 

“I’ll call an Uber.” You lie, hoping that this will end the conversation once and for all. Seriously, Isagi just killed the whole vibe of the party for you. You want to go back to drinking. 

“But I thought you didn’t do Ubers.” When Isagi calls you out on your bullshit, you soften momentarily. You almost forgot that he heard about your weird thing of having strangers know your home address. Then, you go back to giving him the cold shoulder. Sometimes, it’s a warm and gooey feeling to be known. Right now, you want to drown your sorrows in tequila and be showered with fake affection by girls who probably don’t even like you sober. You didn’t come to this party to be known. You came here for revenge. 

(You’re not going to acknowledge how drinking your sadness away isn’t necessarily showing up Rin, but for nearly an hour straight, you hadn’t thought about him, and that’s good enough.) 

When you have no response to that (wit doesn’t come easy when you’re in the condition you’re in right now), Isagi looks at you imploringly. 

“Let me take you home.” 

You shake your head childishly, almost saying nuh-uh. “Just because you don’t like this party doesn’t mean I don’t like it. I’m staying right here.” 

He finally frowns. “Fine. I’ll wait for you to finish up here, then I’ll take you home.”

“I’m with my friends right now. Leave me alone.” 

He raises an eyebrow. “Really? Which friend is going to make sure you get home safely? Yukimiya already left early.” Despite the two of you not knowing what the other is thinking, you both give wry smiles about that statement for the same reason. The party is still going on strong, despite the guest of honor not wanting to show his face and leaving early. 

“These are my best friends.” You gesture to the trio of girls you know nothing about, besides the fact that they can keep up with your drinking habits. They all smile at Isagi, who waves back before turning his attention back to you.

“Really?” He asks. “What’re their names again?”

No one has anything to say to that, especially you. When the silence gets too awkward, Isagi clears his throat and also puts his foot down.

“I’m taking you home, [Name].” 

You look at the trio of strangers you just spent hours with. Harper’s Bazaar shrugs, and the other two look away. The sting of not knowing who they are, despite them obviously having enough notoriety to be invited, makes your “best friends” not your friends anymore. Whatever. 

“Fine.” You grumble, following Isagi to his car. 

“Did you have fun tonight?” Is what he asks you as he signals to make a turn. The clicking of the turn signal is the only thing that fills the silence in the car. 

No. 

Sometimes, it’s fun in the moment, but that’s only when you’re drunk enough to trick yourself into thinking you’re having a good time. You’re more like Yukimiya (and — gross — Isagi) than they know; the whole “It Girl dominates the party scene” vibe you’ve got going on… It’s just bullshit that your PR team mixes together to get people talking. The high of being adored by everyone in a room vanishes almost immediately the minute you go home and wash off your makeup. In the bright lights of your bathroom, you stare at the sad, lonely girl in the mirror. It’s too dark outside for you to see anything out the window, but you lean your head against the cool glass, and before you know it, you’re waking up…

To Isagi groping you?

You’re groggy and confused and trying to blink the sleepiness out of your eyes, but Yoichi Isagi is definitely all up on you. You’re shocked, honestly. He looks like such a sweet guy! No wonder he was so pushy in getting you home.

He’s holding you in some awkward side hug, and he’s patting down your waist, trying to slip his fingers through the fabric of your dress, and finally, because he must be a novice-level pervert who doesn’t know the first thing about female anatomy, you speak up. 

“Gross! You can’t even feel up a girl properly! No wonder you take advantage of drunk, vulnerable girls!” 

“Ah!” He jerks back, shocked that you’re awake. Serves the pervert right. He should be backing up. You took a month of kickboxing classes (your modeling agency thought it would be the next big thing, since all the Victoria Secret models kickbox — they were wrong). “I-I wasn’t feeling you up!” 

“Then why were your hands all over me?” 

“I was looking for your key! You were asleep, and you looked like you needed it, so I just carried you to your door, but it’s locked.”

Oh. Likely story. You’re not letting him off the hook just yet. 

“Obviously my front door would be locked, dumbass. Who doesn’t lock their house?” You point to the perfectly trimmed hedges by your door. “Key’s in the bushes.”

Since you’re making no moves to get down on your knees and rifle through the bushes, Isagi sighs and does it himself. When he holds up the key, you nod in thanks, take it, and then proceed to unlock the door using your fingerprint. 

He blinks. “What?” 

“What?” You repeat back, innocently. 

“You didn’t even need the key to unlock the door!”

“Yes, Isagi. Modern technology is something, isn’t it?” And because you feel kind of bad, you offer him the chance to wash up before driving back. 

“You’re really something, you know that?” Isagi says from the kitchen sink. You’re sitting on a stool by the counter.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s nothing bad.” He clarifies. “It’s just… Rin’s a pretty private person. We always wondered what his girlfriend must be like. Sorry.” He shuts off the faucet, dries his hands. “Ex-girlfriend, I guess.”

“How do you know that?” You’ve been racking your brain, wondering if Yuki spilled your secret accidentally. Or — even worse — Rin himself confirmed it. Rin never even told anyone explicitly that the two of you were dating, so it’s not plausible that he would go blab about the breakup. 

“Well, I didn’t really know for sure until I drove you home that first time.” He admits. “I just thought you made a weird face when I mentioned Rin during lunch, and then you started acting funny afterwards. Just had a hunch, that’s all.” 

Great. So, Isagi, who’s basically a stranger to you, could read you to filth. Is there anyone else that you haven’t been fooling? How embarrassing. Being perceived sucks. 

You don’t say anything else. You can hear Isagi mumbling about something, and you make a half-hearted noise in reply, but you’re sleepy and drunk and coming to the realization that you can’t keep fooling everyone around for long. There’s no point in dancing around the topic of your breakup. It’s getting tiring, anyway. 

It is pretty exhausting to be pining after someone who’s not coming back. 

Because that’s why you’re trying so hard to keep the breakup a secret. Partly for pride, but mostly because… You’re hoping that after learning everything there is to know about you, Rin Itoshi wouldn’t go so far to cut you so deeply by leaving you. Right? He understood your level of loneliness like no one else, and he related to it. For the first time in both of your lives, the two of you suddenly found the right person to fill in all the empty spaces. 

And then he left, and the emptiness just continues to grow in infinite amounts.

You groan as you move around, only to find that you’re moving on top of your bed. You’re tucked into your sheets, and your hair is splayed across your pillow. You turn your head and see a shadowy figure exiting out your bedroom door.

“You’re leaving, too?” 

Your throat is dry, and the words come out small. You hate this feeling of hopelessness and vulnerability, and the figure pauses in his steps. 

He hushes you gently. “You should go to sleep. You’ve had a long night.” 

“Fine. Don’t stay. I don’t care.” You burrow yourself further into your blankets. 

“Do you really want me to stay?” 

At one in the morning, covered in the darkness of your bedroom, you turn every shadow into Rin Itoshi. You don’t know what you mumble in response, but you know that whatever you said, it’s directed towards him.

[1800-page-not-found]

Helloo! Can i have kim dokja x reader where its like reader and yjh at first hate each other but over time they start getting close (slight yjh x reader if you want) and dokja starts seeing them being close and gets jealous (i love dokja being jelly)

(sorry its a bit hard to read😓 have a great day and stay hydrated !)

Yall love jealous kim dokja goddamn

Jealous Kim Dokja x reader

Platonic Yoo Joonghyuk x reader (like a sibling dynamic)

heres some father son time with kdj and gilyoung (wingman!!)

Im sorry btw if you think it's short, i struggle with writing long stories 😭😭😭

When Dokja first told you about the novel he was reading, you felt bad for the main character. But jeez...meeting him in real life? Man you just wanted to curse him out!

During one of the scenarios, you had all split up, pulling sticks to see who'd get paired with who, and you just happened to be paired with Joonghyuk. As you both walk around, an elderly lady walked up and offered some food. After evaluating it, you decided it was safe.

"We don't n-" Before he could finish, you kicked the back of his knee and made him kneel, pushing his head down.

"Thank you granny!" You smiled at the lady, "I'm also so sorry for his actions, you see, he escaped from a mental institute-"

Before you could finish your lie, he covered your mouth, the grandma laughing and walking away, talking about her youthful days.

"Seriously? Mental institute? Please, as if." He scoffed.

"Yeah you probably escaped." You laughed, before running off as he chased you with his sword.

Running around, you found your beloved dokja, and leapt into his arms like a princess.

"Dokja! Your companion is trying to kill me!" You laughed at the fuming Joonghyuk, pointing at him.

A string of jealousy tugged at Dokja's heart, his mind wandering off to what a cute one on one time you two would have had...

-

After settling down, you, dokja, joonghyuk, and gilyoung decided to walk together.

As you all turned a corner, a grotesque monster popped up out of nowhere.

With your heightened blood pressure, you kicked joonghyuk forward, shouting, "Take him!"

Of course someone like him faced no difficulty cutting down the monster, but it did end up with you two bickering and fighting. Man...you two had to be long lost twins at this point...

-

Although dokja didn't notice it, gilyoung definitely did.

"Are you jealous?" He asked dokja.

"Wha..what? No!" Dokja waved his hands in the air.

"Yes you are...You frown everytime you look at that bastard," He nods in approval, "It's okay ajussi, me too, me too. He's wasting [name]'s precious time!"

So, the cooked up a plan.

A trap was set up, in which they titled it, 'Bastard Trap.'

Both you and joonghyuk were too engrossed in fighting each other and bickering that you both didn't realize the trap. As the two of you walked behind, you blinked, and joonghyuk was gone??

On the other hand, joonghyuk blinked and he was suddenly flung into the air, far away.

You shrugged it off, this basically meant you win...the gods were really looking out for you...! You wept a silent tear.

Gilyoung too initative, grabbing your hand and dokja's smiling and dragging you about.

"This is nice, right?" He spoke, grinning ear to ear.

You laughed, "Sure is!"

Mission accomplished!

Dokja smiled at your reaction, you really were the perfect woman. His jealousy was gone now (in which said jealousy found himself in an alleyway)

He would do this again in a heartbeat.

[whispersoftheton]

Hello!

Do you think you could write an anthony x reader angst turned fluff/smut fic?

They’ve married out of duty but both have feelings for each other they refuse to admit

Hi! This is also my first fic for this fandom and I got kind of carried away with it, hope you don't mind :) Thank you for requesting btw <3

dont worry the next request i post will have smut in it and im posting that one this weekend >:)

Anthony Bridgerton x F!Reader

Warnings: reader and Anthony are married, pining, death of parents (reader), angst, kissing, fluff at the end

Word Count: 2.4K

The day dawned crisp and clear, sunlight peering through the flowing curtains and illuminating your path along the long hallway of your lavish home. The sounds of maids bustling through the estate and the gravel crackling beneath the horse's hoofs from outside filled your ears. Your mind raced with the many tasks at hand for today as you straightened out your dress. The last ball of the season was a significant one indeed, and you had the honor of hosting it tonight. The last few days were filled with overseeing that every detail of the evening, no matter how small, was managed and executed perfectly. 

As the maids fetched accessories and floral arrangements for you to approve ahead of the festivities, you pondered how your life had drastically changed. A mere three months had passed since your wedding day. Still, it seemed a lifetime ago. You had every reason to be happy, you had married well, living more than comfortably, and your husband was not unkind towards you like others you've heard about. But your marriage to the viscount wasn't exactly the love story of the century, to say the least. 

After the passing of both your parents, Lady Danbury had taken you in as one of her own. Raised you to be a lady of society in every way she saw fit and even sponsored your coming out last season. The very same season, the Queen appointed you as her diamond. Not long after, none other than Anthony Bridgerton set his sights on you, surpassing any honorable suitor that even thought about appearing at your doorstep. The entire courtship, along with the proposal, felt purely transactional. Anthony berated you with questions, encounters feeling more like interviews than any courting you were used to. It was not as if you were not attracted to the man if you were being entirely honest with yourself; you'd spent the better half of your time bottling up whatever it is that blossoms in your chest when he is near. And you hated yourself for it. For feeling something you couldn't even name for a man who treated as nothing more than an object. Every public outing where he was caring towards you, even kind and every bit of charming you could ever hope for, raised your hopes high only to see them crashing down at the indifference towards you the moment you were alone without the peering eyes of the ton on you.

Your wedding and honeymoon came and went in a blur. Not even able to consummate the marriage properly due to an argument that left you both enraged and unable to look each other in the eye in the days that followed. The following months were a string of simple greetings in passing and only speaking to one another when absolutely necessary. The empty house you now lived in was becoming your own personal void without so much as the company of your supposed husband.

"Viscountess Bridgerton, are you alright?" Your maid questioned as you snapped out of your haze and directed your attention back to the bouquets before you.

"Yes, this one will be lovely for tonight, thank you." You made your final decision as Anthony strolled into the room. Your maids quickly making themselves sparse, leaving the two of you alone.

"My family should be arriving any second; I assume everything for tonight is in order, is it not?" The underlying sarcasm and questioning of your ability as the lady of the house crawled right under your skin, any lingering feelings you had been contemplating only a moment ago for the Viscount gone in an instant at his distasteful manner.

"Yes, Lord Bridgerton." You replied dryly.

"Dear, we are married and have been for some time now. I would very much like it if I did not have to tell you to address me by my first name while we are in our home." You audibly scoffed at his command while standing from your seat.

"And I would very much like it if my husband would not treat me as though I do not exist." You snapped. Anthony's jaw clenched as he tensed before you. "Seems like neither of us shall get what we want. Now if you'll excuse me, my lord, I have some preparations still pending for tonight. I am sure you can see your family to their rooms for now." 

"Now, you will not even greet my family. Do you have a distaste for them as well?"

"Never. I adore your mama and siblings as if they were my own." Anthony searched for any sign of deceit but instead found honest eyes staring back at him, making his heart ache. "If anything, I am grateful. Alas, there shall be a Bridgerton in this home I do not dislike." 

Your thoughts betrayed you abruptly exited the room and returned to your bed chambers to prepare for the evening, shutting the door and leaning against it in an attempt to steady yourself. Damn him. His scent blurred your thoughts and inhibited every one of your senses as you attempted to concentrate on the anger portrayed in his words. Instead, your mind wandered to how his white shirt hugged every curve of his chest, the plumpness of his lips, and the curve of his jaw. It was alluring in the most intoxicating way. You knew you had to compose yourself before the night began; the last thing you needed was to be distraught at your own ball.

------------------------

You stepped into the ballroom in your new dress gown the modiste had spent a significant amount of time making especially for this occasion. The staircase was beautifully adorned with white roses and touches of lilacs cascading down onto the main area. Candelabras and other flourishing arrangements were stationed around the refreshment tables your guests gathered at, and the thrumming rhythm of classical music whispered into your ears as you took notice of everyone enjoying themselves before greeting them. 

Unbeknownst to you, Anthony stood at the opposite end of the ballroom, observing how you conducted yourself gracefully amongst the guests—making light conversations while extending your kindness to everyone. He marveled at your ability to make each person feel as though they had your undivided attention; although he would never admit it, he found himself yearning for that same attention from you.

Early on, Anthony knew you fit all the requirements he had given himself for a wife. Someone honorable and suitable enough to hold the role of his Viscountess. It was precisely why he had chosen you, but that wasn't the only motive. You were the only lady's company outside his sisters; he did not particularly hate. Every potential partner he sought that season out had come up empty, whether it had been on the conversation or any other unfulfilling matter they discussed. You were different. You carried a conversation like no other, educated in far more areas than he could've hoped for, but none of that quite captured his heart in an unsuspecting manner like your character. You were kind and compassionate in a way he admired; you challenged him in ways that irritated him to no end, yet he found himself entirely enraptured by you. This is precisely why he had no choice other than shut you out completely. Anthony knew letting you get too close would be going against everything he wanted for himself. He couldn't let himself love another or have another love him; with love came loss. That he knew for certain.

"All seems good with the two of you, I see." Daphne smiled while moving to stand by Anthony as she spoke, breaking his train of thought.

"Good? I do not follow, dear sister." Anthony cleared his throat.

"Yes, good. With the way you were just openly admiring your wife, I assume it is only because the two of you have finally gotten over yourselves and admitted whatever it is you feel for one another." Anthony practically rolled his eyes at his younger sister, beginning to regret ever being forthcoming with her about the circumstances of his marriage early on. "Oh, do not tell me you are still playing this game? At this stage of marriage? Anthony-" She began scolding him, but he interrupted and led her to a more private area of the ballroom. 

"There is no game. We married because it was our duty to do so. Nothing more, nothing less. You will have to accept that, Daphne." Anthony's voice grew stern as he furrowed his brows at his sister.

"And I do. What I will not accept is the way your love for each other goes unspoken when it is clear to everyone around you." She spoke her following words in a hushed tone as to keep anyone who may be standing near from listening to them. "There is no doubt you hold love in your heart for her, brother. But if you do not tell her soon, I fear you will lose her and your only chance at happiness forever." With that, Daphne offered him a soft smile before walking towards Simon, who busied himself greeting Lady Danbury and her mama.

The night went on better than you could've hoped for. The dances and mingling were without a flaw, and even Lady Bridgerton and the Dutchess were quick to praise you on how well everything had turned out. Soon the guests started to filter out, making their way home after a long night of celebration. You strolled over to your husband after bidding goodbye to her majesty the Queen and ensuring everything had been to her liking. Anthony couldn't help but take notice of how stunning you looked tonight. How your dress fell perfectly over your figure, gems scattered throughout to match his mother's necklace laid in the most alluring way on the supple skin of your neck and chest. He was entranced in a way he'd never been before. Perhaps Daphne had been right. There's a sentence he never thought he'd utter, he thought to himself. Perhaps he had let his fears control him for far too long.

You had barely noticed your ring slipping from your fingers to fall at Anthony's feet as you approached him. Both of you leaned down to reach for it in unison, fingers ghosting over one another, making your breath catch and your eyes meet as he placed it upon your finger once again. The intimacy of such a small moment becoming too much to bear far too quickly.

"I must go." You could not bear to withstand one more moment under Anthony's intense glare, the part of you that wanted to finally divulge all the feelings you'd fought so hard to suppress after all this time threatening to break through at any given moment. You suddenly stepped back, picked up your dress the best you could, and walked hastily to avoid attracting unwanted attention from lingering guests. As you paced through the gardens, an overwhelming and uncertain feeling washed over you before you overheard Anthony's steps behind you.

"Why? Why is it that you distance yourself from me?" Anthony shouted in a hushed tone toward you. 

"Me? I am not the one stuffed in my office all day, coming to bed at late hours of the night when I am asleep and gone once I wake. Avoiding me day in and day out as if I am a plague to you." Tears welled in your eyes, making Anthony's breath hitch. He could not stand to see you like this. Every nerve in his body burned to fix whatever was troubling you, even if he was the one who caused it. Every feeling he had worked so hard to bury all this time, convincing himself he did not love you, could not love you, surfacing with every word that escaped your lips. "You treat me as though you do not care for me." Your voice was just low enough for him to hear, eyes cast downward, unable to give him so much as a glance through his silence. 

"Do not care for you? It is as if I am being consumed when I am with you. I cannot hold a breath or do the most ordinary task without you racing across my every thought. I feel as though I am losing my sanity because I cannot bear to be without you for one second. And when you are near me, it is positively intoxicating in ways I did not know to be possible." Anthony stepped cautiously toward you, fingers ghosting over your cheek, eyes dancing along your features with adoration filling them. "I love you. I love you as much as a person can love another. I do not wish to hold it inside anymore. I love you."

"I love you too." A sob wracked your chest as you responded without hesitation. The reflection in your eyes conveyed the devotion and tenderness he yearned for. It was as if you indeed saw the pieces of him but only sought to love him as he was, incomplete and perfect in every way in your eyes. As your husband.

Your heartbeat quickened as Anthony stepped close enough so that your noses practically brushed against one another—a familiar desire spreading from your heart to your chest.

Anthony cupped your face, his thumb tenderly stroking your cheek. Chills spread along your skin at the warmth of his touch. Unbridled affection flowed freely and filled the space between you. Your lips met for what felt like the first time; his other hand settled at your waist, prompting you closer to him and deepening the kiss. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency. It was as if nothing else mattered, the past becoming more of a distant memory the further you melted into him. There was only this moment. Anthony unwillingly pulled away, leaving your foreheads pressed against one another, his hair slightly disheveled from your fingers running through it, lips swollen and thoroughly kissed. A deep sigh escaped him before he spoke.

"I would marry you again if I could. Do it all over from the very beginning." His voice slightly wavered at the sentiment; it suddenly weighed on him how much he truly meant it. He wished nothing more than to turn back time and love you the way you deserve from the very beginning. Things would have been so different.

"Anthony, you do not need to embellish. We already married." A chuckle escaped you, a knowing smile gracing his lips. "What?"

"You called me Anthony." 

I do not consent to having my work reposted, translated, or published to any third party site or app. if anyone sees my work anywhere that is not ao3/tumblr or under any other username that is not whispersoftheton, it has been reposted without my permission

[sepherinaspoppies]

The One That Got Away

pairing: Dark! Book Aemond Targaryen x Modern! Reader

summary: After she escapes Aemond Targaryen, back home to the modern world her family decides to throw her an eventful baby shower where she is constantly being reminded of the father of her unborn child.

warnings: mentions of dark! book Aemond, mentions of forced marriage, and future spoilers to my main story.

wc: 4,864

main story masterlist

my masterlist

notes: this was supposed to be a small drabble lol but I got carried away lol. btw maybe this can be read as a stand alone but I do suggest to read the first two parts. this is a spoiler drabble so read if you must or come back to it when the story is finished!

gif by @gameofthronesdaily

As of late, she had begun to feel strange. 

It was not the same ill feeling she felt when she first found out that Aemond Targaryen had knocked her up. No, this was different. Odd. 

The closest she could describe it was multiple sets of eyes watching her every single move. From crossing the street, to walking to the mercado and perhaps even sitting on the toilet as she peed.

It was an unsettling feeling that blossomed into slight paranoia. Alys was the first to have warned her about this after she escaped. Saying she too felt something lingering by days after she fled Aemond and settled into the modern world but it was gone once Alys met her. 

However, that strange feeling was always creeping around, never disappearing. And even though Alys had promised that Aemond would never find her with the many spells and seals she encircled around to protect her, she still didn’t feel quite so easily convinced. 

Late at night, she would pray for that strange yet uncomfortable feeling to be gone and to never come back. But most importantly she prayed to the Gods for the very memory of him to vanish completely from her mind. 

The Gods, nevertheless, didn’t seem to want to grant her daily prayers as cruelly as they were. 

She was near the third trimester in her pregnancy when her primas Gabriela and Mariana decided to throw her a baby shower. While she was in no social or partying mood, considering her six month belly weighed her down every time she walked, she reluctantly gave in to their pleadings. (female cousins)

Mostly because she desperately needed the distraction. 

So she let both Gabriela and Mariana organize the shower. Her only request was to keep the party small, with only her, her abuela, them and the rest of her primas and tias. Seeing as her extended family that resided deeper inside the pueblo, did not know about her pregnancy. And she wanted to keep it that way. (aunts, town)

But did Gabriela and Mariana ever listen? No.

The pair had practically invited half the town over with people she had never met before. It came as a huge surprise after she got done from her shift at Doña Maribel’s shop, just how many people showed up. 

The whole street was filled with baby blue, pink, and white balloons with a huge banner with her name on it. Her neighbors, mostly the women, approached her with congratulations and a small gift. She, of course, thanked them for their kindness. 

Meanwhile her tios happened to be making carne asada in the middle of the street and placing bets on the gender of her baby. If she wasn’t so paranoid about Aemond searching for her, she too would’ve also joined in on their bets. (uncles, roasted meat or barbecue lol)

Her primas were the first to greet her while eagerly showing the decorations they had made, the party games they had planned, and the many gifts she had been gifted. 

“We made these little pins for the gender of the baby, and all of us are wearing what we think the little frijolito is going to be. Now it’s your turn to pick!” Gabriela says holding two pins, each adorned with a baby bottle with either pink or blue. (little bean)

She looked at both very hesitantly, unable to just pick one. She had heard stories from multiple customers that came from the shop, how they just knew the gender of their baby by the feel of their bump or mood symptoms. 

After weeks of trying to feel something or to establish some type of connection for it, she sadly could not get a good feel of what it was. 

Though, the only thing that did matter was for the little frijolito to be happy and healthy. When reading Fire and Blood, she remembered reading how Rhaenyra Targaryen had birthed a daughter with dragon-like birth defects and a scaled tail.

She prayed that she wouldn’t hatch an actual dragon as well. Birth sounded painful and unpleasant enough as it was. 

She pinned both decorative pins to her shirt earning several dissatisfied ‘aw’s’ from her surrounding family. 

“I’m pretty sure it’ll be a boy,” Her abuela added in, sitting adjacent to her on the small couch. “I carried five boys and my belly was as low as yours. When I carried your mama, my belly was higher and rounder from the sides.” 

Some of her tias nodded in agreement. But it was her tia abuela, Dora, who examined her from head to toe, doing what she did best; stirring the pot. “Yes and her belly is very big which means it’ll be a tall baby. Tell me, hija, is the father a tall man?” (great aunt, daughter)

The room went impossibly quiet so much that she could hear a hair pin drop. She saw her abuela shift uncomfortably against the couch as so did the rest of her tias and primas. Although she had not mentioned who or what exactly happened to her family, they all had an inclination of what stemmed between the father of her unborn child and her. 

“Yes. Yes he is.” She answered with a fake smile. 

Dora raised an eyebrow, more than intrigued to know more. “¿Cuánto mide?” (what’s his height?)

In the corner of her eye, she saw her abuela give her sister a harsh look, the same one she’d give her when she was little whenever she did something wrong. 

“I don’t know his exact height, tia. I just know he is a lot taller than me.” She informed, trying not to let her voice waver at the small flashback she had of Aemond, standing in front of her where he’d forced her to marry him against a Weirwood tree at Harrenhal. It was the first time she really took in his massive height. And it was also the first time she felt truly smaller and inferior than him. 

You’re safe. You escaped. He’s gone. He’ll never find us. 

Dora did not let her sister’s harsh stare get to her, and instead fixated her eyes on the way she kept rubbing her heavy bump. “Will we ever get a chance to meet him?-”

“Hermana,” Her abuela warned with a stricter and more stern tone to her voice. (sister)

“Que? I just want to know more about the father so I can figure out if the clothes I bought would be a right fit or not.” Dora shrugs, feigning an innocent look on her face. Though, it was transparent enough to know she was lying. (what?)

Truth to be told, she never really quite liked her tia abuela. No one ever did. Not even her mama or abuela or quite shockingly her own daughter. Dora was known to be a pretentious chismosa, sticking her nose into other people’s business and going as far as to twist people’s words for the sole purpose of her own enjoyment. (gossiper)

Multiple times her family called Dora out for her bad mouthing. But the older woman stuck around like a moth to a flame, awaiting for new chisme to spread. (gossip)

“Well, if the clothes don’t fit we can always buy new ones. So stop being a metida, hermana.” She watched amazed as her tia abuela only huffed, crossing her arms on her chest and for once kept quiet for the remainder of the party. (someone who is other’s business)

To dissipate away the eminent tension, Mariana had brought out custom baby shower tablas of loteria she and Gabriela had ordered from Etsy. She laughed at the ‘La Botella’ being replaced with a biberón and ‘La Sirena’ being replaced with a pair of lactating breasts that tia Diana joked it’ll soon look like hers whenever she’d give birth. (cards of the game loteria. The bottle. Baby bottle. The siren)

As per usual, they played with money involved. She had won seven rounds out of ten against her family and earned around five hundred pesos until her tios decided to join in and tried to defeat her. Keyword, tried. But they never did and pinned four hundred more pesos to her dress. All five of her tios had playfully cursed her out as they kept drinking their Coronas. 

“Alyssandra, bienvenida!” Her abuela welcomed a bashful looking Alys holding a gift. The green eyed woman wore an all black outfit, jeans that Alys had once confessed to her were her favorite stylish invention of the modern world (besides non toxic makeup). (welcome)

“I hope I’m not too late for the celebration,” Alys pointed out, taking a seat in front of her. “You kept my nieta safe those many months ago, you’re always welcomed here at any time, Alyssandra.” (granddaughter)

Safe. 

She let out a humorous laugh. Safe was the opposite of what Alys had done to her. Kidnapped and held hostage was a better fit for words. She had been magically transported to a world she only knew existed in a book, and met one of her favorite book characters, Aemond Targaryen. A man who she thought to be a kindhearted friend by promising to return her back to her universe. 

Instead Aemond Targaryen had betrayed her trust and loyalty by destroying what she needed to get back home. Thus forcing her to marry him. It was then when she realized who he truly was hidden behind empty promises; a man who was crazy and obsessed with her. 

And everything had happened for a stupid sapphire that held a high sentimental value to Alys. 

Alys narrowed her eyes from where she sat but suddenly softened when she saw the permanent bruises on her wrists where Aemond had tied her down for their intense wedding night. 

Multiple times did Alys apologize for sending her to the arms of a delusional man. From what Alys remembered, Aemond didn’t go as far as bounding her whenever they slept together. Alys had let Aemond take his pleasure with a feign smile ultimately to play her game of survival. 

She didn’t quite so easily forgive Alys and she doesn’t think she’d ever will. 

“I still am sorry for what I did.” Alys’ voice softly wandered on her head. 

“I know,” She replied back through her mind. 

As the day turned into night, it was finally time to open gifts. However, not without having cake, her abuela brought out a delicious looking chocoflan. A cake she previously loved but thanks to Aemond, she no longer was fond of it. 

Her abuela cut the biggest slide for her and the little frijolito and called out the rest of the family to come have a slice. In an instant the chocoflan was gone but her abuela secretly whispered to her that she had more in the fridge saved just only for her. 

It took her over an hour to unwrap the stack of gifts she received and she was grateful for the many boxes of diapers as they would come utterly in handy. She’d been gifted a dark green crochet hat with matching mittens from her abuela, a pair of red mal de ojo bracelets for spiritual protection from tia Imelda, a mini thick cobija Mexicana from tio Eduardo, and several gender neutral clothes. (evil eye, mexican blanket)

It was Alys’ gift that made everyone’s head turn in confusion. 

“They are scrolls. I found them as I was cleaning my bookshelf and I thought they might be useful to your babe,” Alys explained as she fully opened one of them, revealing hieroglyphics and scriptures in a language she didn’t understand. 

“What’s… High Valyrian?” Mariana asked ever so curious, over her shoulder. 

Alys interrupted her before she had a chance to speak. “It is a language originating from the land of Old Valyria.” 

Her youngest prima Sofia’s eyes lit up in interest, “Oh cool! Is it like the Sith language from Star Wars?” 

It was Alys’ turn to look at the young Star Wars fan in befuddlement. “What’s Star Wars?”

Sofia scoffed in shock and explained in full detail what the fictional universe that was Star Wars. Well at least she hoped it was fictional. At this point, if Luke Skywalker was real in another universe or in a galaxy far, far away she wouldn’t be astonished. Though, if the opportunity presented itself, she wouldn’t mind traveling to that world to meet Anakin Skywalker. If the real Anakin Skywalker looked anything like Hayden Christensen, within a heartbeat she’d run to Alys to do one of her spells. 

“Who are the Targaryens?” Gabriela questioned reading one of the scrolls that had a list of Valyrian houses. 

“Nobody.” She sharply replied, starting to feel somewhat vexed. 

“They are the people who descended from Old Valyria and speak High Valyrian. They are the only ones who can read these scrolls-”

One flesh. One heart. One soul. 

“Alys.” 

“They sound magical,” Sofia replied, full of awestruck. Only if she knew that they were more than just that. 

“Why did you say that these scrolls would be useful to the baby? Is the baby part Targaryen or something?” Mariana jokes, making her family more intrigued by the edge of their seats.  

“Can’t have my seed go to waste, my love. You shall swell with my child soon enough. A perfect babe born from our love.” 

Stop. No more. You are safe. He’ll never come. This is your baby more than it is his. 

“You are mine. You’ll never leave me…”

“Hija?” She heard her abuela call out her name as she broke out in a run. 

She wanted to get out, every second that she was there, being reminded of the man who impregnated her made her feel nauseous. Maybe it was because of the frijolito or just pure fear. She didn’t know, but either way it was a feeling she didn’t want to have. 

She did not spare anyone a glance, not wishing for anyone to see the panic and wretchedness. 

“I love you.” 

In an instant, she grabbed the nearest thing she could find and emptied out her stomach until Aemond’s voice stopped circulating in her head. 

“Are you okay?” A soft voice spoke behind her. 

She turned around seeing a man around her age, tall with black hair and dark brown eyes. His hand extended a red solo cup that he softly murmured was water.  

She nodded, easing the worry on his face. “Yea just a little sick is all.” The worrisome never faltered on his face, if anything he looked more concerned. “There’s some gelatina inside, I could grab you a plate? When my sisters were pregnant all they ate was gelatina to ease the nausea.” (gelatin aka jell-o)

“No it’s fine, I’ll-” He waved her off, sprinting inside before she could even finish. He brought a small plate of gelatina de limon to an empty table, motioning for her to sit. (lime flavored gelatin)

He watched intently as she took a few bites into the gelatina, humming when the color came back to her face. She sure did feel better, small little kicks to her belly confirmed that the frijolito felt the same. 

“Better?” The dark haired man asked. 

“Yes, thank you.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. 

“I’m not sure if you remember me. I’m Armando,” He bashfully confessed with a tint of pink on his cheeks. 

Of course she most definitely remembered him. The boy next door she had a huge crush on when she was little. Only that he was not so little now. 

“I do remember you. It still feels like just yesterday when we were sitting here on these tables eating the paletas de hielo after school.” She smiled fondly at the memory. Unbeknownst to her Armando would use the money his parents would give him for school lunch, to buy their paletas de hielo just so he could spend more time with her. It was his favorite part of the day. (popsicles)

Armando laughed as he too looked back at the memory. “I would’ve come a lot sooner to catch up. But I had some business to do in Oaxaca and Merida. I wasn’t sure if you’d remember me since it's been more than thirteen years but I needed to see you just once more before I left.” 

A part of her felt touched that he had come all this way, and the drive she knew wasn’t easy. “I’m surprised you remembered me,” She quipped back. 

“Who would ever forget you?” 

It was her turn to bright pink. She couldn’t find any right words, but what could anyone say? Armando’s confession had been honest. Since she had left al otro lado, there hadn’t been a day where he wouldn’t stop thinking about her. (to the other side/ the states)

She decided to briefly change the subject instead. “I see that you didn’t change your mind about going to Oaxaca after all these years.” For as long as she could remember, Armando more than often would say that he wanted to live in Oaxaca, especially near the coast. What she also didn’t know was that it was her who he wanted to live there with.  

“No I didn’t. I’m building a house there since my papa left me some terreno there after he passed away. You should come visit after it’s finished, soon.” Armando sincerely hoped she would. (land)

Aquí vas a terminar de enamorarte conmigo. He thought to himself. (here you are going to end up falling in love with me) 

The idea of going to Oaxaca sounded not so bad. But traveling with a big and heavy belly sounded tiring and draining. Perhaps after she’d given birth when the baby was past its infancy. 

“I leave in four days and I’d like to see you again. Or perhaps you wanna come with me?” The dark haired man asked, quirking a brow. 

“So what do you think of Armando?” Her abuela slyly probed, after she’d just given her goodbye to Armando. She should have known her abuela would be closely watching their interaction. “He’s gotten taller,” She jokes with a playful look on her face. Her abuela rolled her eyes, “You know that’s not what I mean.” 

She knows what she means but the talk of men was not something she wished to continue further. If she had met Armando first rather than Aemond, she definitely wouldn’t mind the conversation. But yet, Aemond had been thrown into her path unwelcomed. 

“When you left for the states with your mama, Armando would ask everyday when you were coming back or any news of you. We thought he’d eventually get the hint that you were gone for good but that boy still asked about you. It wasn’t until your abuelo finally broke the news to him that he stopped coming here.” 

She remembered that day when she left, her mama barely gave her time to say her goodbyes. 

“He seems to be doing alright.” She pointed out, picking up dirty plates to place them inside the sink. “Oh, he’s doing better than alright. He got offered a position to work at a law firm in Oaxaca and his mama told me he’s also building a house over there. I heard it’s beautiful and spacious.” At the last sentence her abuela wiggles her brows, teasing. 

She hummed in acknowledgement, knowing where the conversation was going towards. “Good for him.” Although Armando gave her a sense of kindness and genuinity, she was in no way ready to be involved with someone romantically. Aemond, too, seemed kind at first until he had betrayed her trust and went completely haywire and delusional. He had shown her a different side to him once she figured out their well thought out plan to transport her back home, was all a lie to get her to marry him and never leave. 

Aemond and Alys both shattered that illusion of the fairytale love she wished to have.  

What’s not to say Armando had an evil and dark side to him as well? 

“El es un buen hombre con un muy buen corazón, tiene trabajo estable. Te lo digo para que lo pienses,” Her abuela advised, gently squeezing her forearm, “A house like the one he’s building, deserves a family to live in.” (he is a good man with a good heart, he has a stable job. I say this so you can think about it) 

Her abuela’s eyes then trailed to her swollen pregnant belly. “One must make sacrifices that we don’t always want or agree with for our children.” 

The party began to slowly falter close to ten, she never was one for sleeping early but after such a long day she and the frijolito needed much necessary beauty sleep. 

Although her abuela said she’d clean, she ended up doing it herself as cleaning gave her a sense of control and some therapy clear of anxiety. She went ahead and took all the gifts up to her bedroom where it was much more quiet and alone amidst others. 

She plopped herself down on the bed, opening a small bottle of lavender oil to rub to her belly that Doña Maribel suggested was good for calming stretch marks. She did not mind them, she knew it was natural for her body to expand to fit the babe, but what did bother her was the itchiness to it. 

Not only did the oil soothe itch, but the frijolito loved it when she would firmly massage the spot where it rested. She once massaged the side of her belly only to find out the dragonling was ticklish there. 

She nearly screamed when she heard two loud knocks at her door, revealing a certain black haired witch. 

“Mind if I come in?” Alys asked, her head popping inside the little crevice of the door. As much as she wanted to be alone, she muttered a simple yes. Alys made herself comfortable by plopping down to the left of her on the bed. 

“I wanted to apologize for what happened earlier, I was out of line to give you those scrolls in the presence of your family.” Alys admitted, her enchanting face etched with sincerity. 

She sighed, “You were. I have a feeling my family will ask me more questions about it.” 

Alys made a face that suggested she was thinking about something, “I could always make them forget it. Just say the words and I’ll do it.” Alys promised. 

“No, no more magic or anything of what I used to think was fictional. I mean it Alys, I don't want to ever think of Aemond Targaryen.” 

Alys understood what she meant, after her version of Aemond died at the Battle Above the Gods Eye, she too didn’t want to think of him. The only thing that mattered was her son, her beautiful little boy that was taken too soon. She regretted not saving him sooner and transporting him to this new world she found. Alys had a feeling that he’d love it here, this country full of colors and great food. 

Even if Alys could bring him back from the dead, her son’s body resided in the Riverlands. 

“What if…” Alys thought before continuing, “What if I could take the memories away? Just the ones of him and-” 

“Forgetting doesn’t change what happened,” She bickered a little too loudly causing the babe to stir and kick all around. 

“I know, I’m sorry.” 

Alys began to admire the many gifts she’d been given, never in her life had she seen so many boxes that read to be diapers. She had only used scraps of linen she’d find lying around and cleaned it when her son did his business. Disposable diapers sounded less work but the thought of the amount of waste in this world seemed unappealing and would much rather keep the scraps of linen. 

“This isn’t really your thing, is it?” Alys motioned her head to the side where her window was, her family still celebrating outside with the whole neighborhood. 

“Not really. This whole thing was organized by my primas and tios. But now that I look back on it I think this was an excuse for my family to throw a party and drink,” She chuckles, even more when she sees her tios, Mario and Pedro dancing together (most likely drunk) to an uncoordinated cumbia.

Alys also lets out a chuckle of agreement, “Your tio Chema kept giving me Coronas after Coronas. I’m amazed that I’m not drunk.”

She smiles, knowing damn well tio Chema loves to get anyone drunk. He’d even pour an ounce to the dog’s kibble too if he could.

“But you are quite lucky you know,” Alys turns to her with a solemn look in her forest green eyes. “To have a family who loves you so much enough to throw you a grand celebration for the babe that you carry.” All that Alys got in return was being called a whore when she was far enough to show. Of course, Aemond hadn’t been one of those people. He rejoiced when she first told him months after he took her as his bedmate. 

“I didn’t.” Alys shrugged. Even though she despised touch, she placed her hand on top of Alys’ and gave it a squeeze. Alys’ eyes began to incite with tears at the gesture, but she quickly shrugged the feeling off. 

“This isn’t about me, this is about you. I know you said no more Westeros talk but I’ve been meaning to give you this for a while now and I wish not to keep it anymore.” Alys placed a medium sized box on her lap. Whatever was inside had some weight into it. 

“You already gave me a gift, Alys-” She declines but the older witch shakes her head and gestures for her to open it. 

She unwraps the green ribbon and opens the top of the box, revealing some kind of oval shaped rock. The color was a mixture of teal and violet, its edges were rough and scaled to the touch. 

It was not just some rock. It was an egg. 

“Please tell me this isn’t what I think it is, Alys.” She murmured anxiously, distancing herself from the object. Alys proudly smiled, “If you assume this is a dragon egg, then yes you’re correct.” 

She immediately places the dragon egg back in the box, afraid of the little thing hatching in a world that it isn’t supposed to be hatched. “You can’t just give me a dragon egg! What if this thing hatches? Dragons aren’t-” She babbled before she was rudely interrupted. 

“Relax, I have enchanted it into a stone. It will not hatch here, I made sure of it.” Alys reassured, placing the egg back onto her hands. 

Still startled, she shook her head. “Nope, I can’t accept this Alys.” She gave the egg back. If anyone were to walk in it’d look like they were playing a game of hot potato. 

“Yes you can and you will. Besides, it’s not like it’s for you; it’s for the babe.” 

She narrowed her eyes, it was still a dragon egg. “How did you even get a dragon’s egg anyways?” 

Alys sighs, sitting back down on the bed taking a trip down memory lane. “My version of Aemond gave it to me. After I told him I was with child he made sure to give me one of Dreamfyre’s eggs. Though, Aemond died shortly after and it did not hatch. My son however, was sad about it but I knew if it hatched Aegon the Younger would send his men to either kill it or to take it for himself since his own dragon died. So I kept the egg for myself.” 

She still had many more questions to ask but for now it would suffice. She walked to the crib that she purchased not too long ago and placed the teal-violet egg next to some dragon plushies she knew the frijolito would like. 

“Thank you Alys,” She told Alys with a smile before releasing a long tired yawn. 

Alys nodded, grabbing her purse, another fashionable invention she loved from this world, deciding to give the young girl some rest. She suddenly came to a stop at her bedroom door.

“You know, you deserve happiness. I believe that young boy with the curls will give you and your babe just that. Give him a chance, take that risk and follow him.” 

With that Alys left. 

Four days later, she knocked at Armando’s door with her belongings in her hands and left with him to Oaxaca. A month later, they both married in a small Catholic church next to their families. True to Alys’ and her abuela’s words, she was happy with Armando. 

Unbeknownst to her, her true husband had been watching through the flames. 

“Oh, my love it seems like you have forgotten who you belong to. Fret not, you will learn soon enough.”

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[hyperblue]

okay i got around and actually wrote it all down, so please enjoy: timkon clone twins au lets fucking go

— they are not technically twins, they're just two clones who happen to develop back to back at the same time, but those are just semantics since they were raised like brother and sister anyway; wendy is considered oldest but only because she was the first outta test tube (tim had to have a little breakdown moment while holding her in his arms before he was able to get jackie out too; wendy is the only person who actually cares about being oldest, jackie is not thrilled because "you're literally only 10 minutes older can you maybe chill")

— wendy's full name is gwendolyn stephanie drake, bc i believe that if tim Has to honor someone by giving their name to his child it should be steph, plus i am cackling at the thought of wendy naming all her social accounts "gwen stefani"; no one really ever calls her gwen tho, the only reason she's not just wendy in papers is because tim was a little pretentious; i also quite like gwendolyn lois but i don't think tim would actually go for it (kon could tho, if he were alive at the time)

— jackie is jackson bartholomew drake. i personally prefer to think that if tim gave it some time he would probably choose a different name, but he just really missed his dad at the moment (he missed everyone, really), and by the time he actually had enough mental stability to sit on it the kid was already pretty much established as jackie withing the family, so yeah. no one ever calls him jack btw, so it's fine

— they both quite like their names although they can't help but nudge their dad a little from time to time, being like "gwendolyn stefanie, dad, really? it's like you picked up a name on pinterest or some shit" ("language"); they are both referred to as "ducklings" within the family (dick was the first to do it, tim started doing the same by pure accident and then it just kinda stuck)

— wendy took a lot after janet drake genetic-wise, to the point where it almost rubs tim in a wrong way sometimes when she gets older — her hair is much lighter than her father's or brother's and doesn't really curl that much, although she's not as pale as tim and has a distinguish golden undertone to her skin; she also gets freckles in summer. tim is one of few people who can actually see kon in her without deliberate searching, especially when she smiles. she has his eyes though, and she leans more on a shorter side (short queen supremacy)

— jackie is pretty much kon in miniature, or at least he is if you don't know where to look. kon himself insists that jackie is a perfect mix of both him and tim, it's just that distinguish curly hair and golden-brown skin throw people off most of the time — jackie for sure has tim's nose and cheekbones, tim's high forehead, tim's sheepish smiles and tim's cunning smirks. he's also a bit leaner that kon as he gets older and also a little bit shorter, although he's still taller than both tim and wendy

— wendy is a certified horse girl, she took horse riding lessons since she was like five (she was begging tim for y e a r s really, at first he insisted on waiting till she was at least six but i guess her kryptonian powers kicked in a little earlier and it doubled down some of tim's parental anxiety, although he definitely was there for a first few lessons just to keep an eye on her). damian got her her own horse eventually, because of course he did. he is her favorite uncle ever since

— she's a true crime videos/podcasts enjoyer (that's how she bonds with her dad)

— jackie is very much into making paper collages since he was around eight years old and has made his first one in school for fathers day (tim has framed it immediately and set it on his table in the WE office; it's still there after years); he used to have a lot of social anxiety as a kid because of being homeschooled 'till first grade and being very attached to tim, and has found the process of making paper collages very soothing

— jackie graduates college eventually (alfred: "thank god. at least one of them")

— they both eventually got into photography like their dad, but jackie is taking more of a professional approach, whereas wendy is mostly doing it for the sake of keeping the memories; that's why she has a small digital camera that she always carries around (it's covered in cute sparkling stickers because duh)

— they are both pan and demisexual

— as i mentioned, the kids were homeschooled for a while, by which i mean that they never went to kindergarten because tim was too paranoid about any potential kryptonian superpowers kicking in anytime; the other reason was that tim's kind of a helicopter parent, especially after coming back from his brucequest, and he's very dependent on both of his kids

— yes it backfires later

— jackie loves his dad more than anything else in the world, and has spent most of his early childhood following him around and throwing tantrums the second tim was out of his sight (which was quite rare, to be fair, at least until tim had to get back to his job at the WE); tim is 90% sure that it has something to do with him being gone for a while to find and save bruce. it evens out a little as jackie gets older and starts going to school and then college, but he's still pretty much codependent, and any decision that he makes about his life ties back to "what would dad do; will it make dad proud/happy; what would dad want for me"

— wendy on the other hand is kon's daughter through and through, she admires him and looks up to him but she has a very complicated, conflicted feelings about her and her brother's circumstances of birth, making her anxious in a way that is like "oh my god am i being annoying what if he doesn't like me what if he looks at me and only sees a living proof of his humans rights violation should i consider never talking to him again god i HATE my dad", so most of her actual interactions with kon are quite awkward on both ends

— tim and kon do not get together until kids are around their late teens, so neither of them calls or really considers kon dad, even tho he definitely played a significant part in their upbringing as soon as he came around with the whole child-cloning situation. wendy was the first to call him dad not long after she moved to the kent's farm, which was an accident, really — she was trying out vigilantism for the first time and got her ass kicked bc lack of experience, and her first instinct at being cornered by a villain was to literally just call for dad (at the back of her mind she meant tim, because to their family kon was always just kon, but the moment he pulled her in and put his hand on the back of her head and said "it's okay, sweetheart, dad's here", nothing has ever made more sense to her than kon being her father. the thought was both thrilling and terrifying)

— tim is "dad", kon is "pa" (if that wasn't already obvious)

— also, yes. wendy eventually moves to the kent's farm to live with kon; more on that in some other post

— kon kind of inherited the kent's farm after both john and martha passed away; technically clack is still the one who owns it, but his and his family's life is mostly in metropolis and he didn't want the place he grew up in turn into an empty memorial of it's better days + he also knew how important it was to kon at the time to have a place he could always return to, so yeah, everyone won in this situation

[ivys-garden]

Hivy, I'm Ivy, and it's time for..

Life Series Alliance Analysis Session Recap:

Scars Snail cam is the best thing to happen this season.

Yes, another week means another session of Wild Life and damn did this one live up to the name. This session's Wild Card was the Infamous immortal snail, an idea originating from a meme that asked if you would press a button to get one million dollars if it meant an unkillable Snail would Chase you and if it ever touched you, you'd die.

This session's snails were far more dangerous though, resulting in far more carnage and downright Junji Ito-Esk descriptions of the incredibly ominous snails. On session 3 there are already 3 reds on the server and, had Grian not called end of session early, we would have had a first player out. So much happened and yet no progress was made, let's see what the teams were up to.

Also, 34 DEATHS WHAT THE FU

The Fast And The Furious (Gem & Joel)

I'm not calling them the family. That name is already taken. And is also lame.

The dynamic duo start the session by immediately forgetting they're supposed to be trying to shake their Villainous reputation by vowing to convince everyone to kill Pearl & Impulse, an incredibly stupid plot for many reasons:

1.Everyone they convince sucks at they're job

2. By gems own admission, Impulse barely did anything to her

3.joel literally forgot about this, since it wasn't important

4. Pearl literally did nothing to her, she was just they're as Impulse was having a rake in there chest (no the poisoning doesn't count, Pearl would do that to anyone)

5. If Pearl is to be punished for just being in the area, then why aren't Cleo & Scott also punished?

6. Gem and Impulse have no interactions this session

7. Pearl and Impulse STILL don't realise Gem hates them

8. Gem repeatedly calls what she's doing “Social Deduction”... no.

Gem actually has a lot in common with Impulse, they're both being extremely ruthless for no reason (if these two become thr final two and there isn't an AMV of there journey through teh season set to Ruthlessness from Epic I will literally eat snow.)

How will this saga end? Idk but it's very funny. keep it up.

Apart from that Gem built a wall, befriended her Snail and neither died. Well done!

(Sidenote about the Gem-Impulse beef, people forget this since he hasn't mentioned it yet but Joel makes it his mission to kill Scott every season. These teams would still be against each other regardless of what Impulse did, which is also very funny)

The Final Girls - (Pearl, Scott, Cleo, Impulse & Bigb)

Oh Deer. That's a lot of deaths very early for the faverouites to win

So to start, Impulse’s Creeper farm is a bust and likely will never be seen again. Whoopsie.

The team also decided to move a smidge closer to everyone else. Due to the snails no substantial progress could be made on this endeavour from most of the team tho, luckily Pearl (after dying to her snail, immediately proving herself as the teams crash test dummy again) was able to get a grip on her snail and get the build started, unfortunately as Pearl is building it is almost certainly going to become a tower…. Oh Pearl also died again building it. What's up with her this season?

Moving on to the perpetual drama that I'd this team’s dynamic, where once again we see the contrast between how Tumblr acts like this team is and how they actually are, with everyone just having a grand old chill time joking around and petting dogs. Crazy to think that a team made of these 5 goober would actually ENJOY when they're teammates cause chaos, Hmm?

A lot of this team's session is actually spent apart, meaning that there isn't much to talk about with them. But Pearl is on Yellow now, meaning she is definitely killing someone next session (an action the whole team is one board with btw). Once again proving herself as the attack dog of the life Series, she asks the team who to hurt. Impulse tries to convince her to attack Ren for killing him, but Pearl shoots this down, once again proving that she is NOT ruthless like impulse. Remember everyone, Pearl might be a little chaos gremlin but she does need a reason to kill or she won't do it. She isn't actually just a murder machine like in double life

That's the funny thing about double life actually. Pearl has moved in from the tower, its everyone else who is stuck in it.

Anyway, grian has a big ol target on his back, we'll see how that Pan's out next week.

Oh also SNAIL RACE HELL YEAH MOTHER FU

The Bam-Boozelers (Scar, Lizzie & Jimmy)

Lizzie thinks snails are arthropods.

Remember when I said Jimmy was the only confident one on this team? Well I guess he didn't have the confidence brain cell this week because he died. He died so much. The entire session for these guys is pretty much just trying to save Jimmy.

This doesn't go very well at all. Jimmy is able to get one life back through a deal with Ren, but all other attempts to intentionally kill someone fall flatter than Scar in session one. At least he does take initiative and blow up Joel's Hidious-Horrible-No-Good-Mobile. Great work big man!

Aslo, Jimmy admitted to being the harvester of the end! The canary curse isn't dying g first it's dying RIGHT before the Finale! That's Canon! I was right! VINDICATION!

The Tuff Guys (Bdubs, Etho & Tango)

Word of advice, if you need to constantly say your tough, your not.

Somehow despite making literally negative progress, this team still managed to do a lot. Bdubs immediately starts the episode with some light gaslighting on account of being bdubs. After this it is decided he must “do something tuff” and so he is sent to go mess with the Bam-Boozelers.

Keeping up with tuff guy tradition, bdubs doesn't do anything. Instead he enlists the Bam Gang to help him make up a story about how totally bad and evil he is. Bdubs is also allowed to come stay with them when the tuff guys inevitably fall apart. An offer bdubs is willing to accept even after Jimmy & Scar get him killed.

In other tuff news, Etho is desperate to prove that he is super tuff and shows up to kill the Bam-Boozelers cows…while they're away meaning he did not have to display any tuffness. He literally just needed to be in and out before they got back. He also takes a second shot at the final girls at gem's request again, and like the first time it goes horribly. The first time he gets distracted by the snail dance party (who wouldn't) and when he remembers what he actually set out to do, the most tuff then he can think of is empty threats and mild littering. C- for effort.

And then there's poor unfortunate Tango, not only does he go to red this session but he also loses his house after being blamed for the cow deaths etho caused. Oh but don't worry he got revenge on scar… in a way that was easily repairable and did no actual damage apart from massively lowering his own reputation.

That is the great tuffness of the tuff guys everybody! They're failing at everything and getting overly stressed about shelled gastropods!

The Spanners (Grian, Mumbo & Skizz)

Grian seemed to think this card would be easy, and I geuss it is if you k ow what to expect and have one of your mates Snail watching you all episode.

Now, Skizz, majestic failure that he is, went yellow super quickly and so the entire session is spent trying to save his but in a multitude of ways, all of which skizz manages to fail at spectacularly. Grian does manage to save Ren from Yellow for about ten minutes and at the cost of any chance he had of Impulse not killing him.

Eventually skizz gave up on all the compilated plots and just wacked Lizzie until she died.

He then immediately got killed again God damn it skizz.

OK so skizz massively lowered they're reputation with the Bam-Boozelers for nothing AND Impulse's revenge meter is full and his team won't hold him back anymore AND I think Martyn might still be peeved at the Enchanter situation AND Tango probably still wants to kill them AND despite what grian says Gem and Joel don't seem to care about them beyond nudging them to kill Impulse so yeah these 3 are super dead, I give them like a session until one of them drops.

P.S Mumbo calls the Snail meme a “thought experment” and I found that very funny and I think you should too.

Also apparently Jimmy and Grian debate what to do about the snail all the time??

Renwood (Martyn & Ren)

There will be a live Snail reaction meme over yaoi of these two I just now it.

Fallowing they're arc of being nice this season, Renwood goes on a great friend finding journey, allying with Gem & Joel on the condition of totally being super mean to Impulse promise and forming a friends to the end Pack with Jimmy at the cost of a spare life.

Ren probably regrets that particular pact as, while trying to perform a great horse search, he loses a life. And another. And so he must kill, allying temporarily with the Spanners to get a kill on Impulse, something that he immediately regrets, proving he is less of a Rottwiler and More of a Labby. Luckily for ren he avoids Impulse's revenge list for now on account of apologising, getting instant Karma for it and the other final girls desperately holding Impulse back.

Martyn on the other hand has a far better time, gallivanting I'm the Nether with etho for potions (he died doing that but shhh), organising the great Snail dance party and joining up with fellow Chaos Gremlins Pearl and Impulse to have some fun with snails and tnt.

With potions in hand the Renwood duo and Etho got up to all sorts of mischief, turning ren invisible and making Scar's Snail invisible, resulting in him almost dying twice and being out of the series…oopsie.

Also Martyn sucks at explaining the Snail meme and thinks the all spice guy and kool aid man are the same person.

Predictions?

With more information comes the first Predictions from me.

●Someone goes out and soon. Probably Skizz or Scar. Jimmy will survive tho, after all the canary curse means he's the harbinger of the end of the series… though with how it's going, next session very well could be the end of the series.

●Grian Is getting murked next session, probably by Pearl.

● The tuff guys will fall apart. Bdubs will buy with the Bam-Boozelers, Etho with Gem and Joel and Tango will be left scrabbling for someone to team up with.

● Joel will try to get revenge on Jim for blowing up the car and will fail

● Etho will continue to look like a total loser

● One of the people yet to die loses a life next session.

So uh yeah. I'm gonna go lie down for until next week.

Until then I've been Ivy, and this has been… whatever this was.