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kckt88 · 7 days

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A Heartbeat Between Us.

Summary:

'Pregnant. Gods, how could she let this happen?

The answer flashed before her mind’s eye—an image of a defined chest, his lean yet muscular form, that sharp, sculpted face. The long silver hair that spilled over his shoulders, a single penetrating blue eye that seemed to look right through her.

And then beneath the clothes and boxers that hid the impressive length and girth of his cock. Y.N felt her throat go dry just thinking about it.

Oh-that’s how it happened.'

Drunken sex with your friends brother, was one thing but getting pregnant with his baby, now that was another matter entirely.

Warning(s): Angst, Drama, Swearing, Alcohol Consumption, Infidelity, Kissing, Oral Sex, Unprocted Sex, P in V, Pregnancy.

AEMOND x Y.N

Word Count: 6048.

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the House of The Dragon or Fire & Blood characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are very much appreciated, do not copy/post to other sights without my permission.

Tag List - @jasminecosmic99 @kaelatargaryen @yesterdayfeelings-blog @immyowndefender @0eessirk8 @darylandbethfanforever9 @killua2dot0 @msassenach @xcharlottemikaelsonx @moonnicole

Y.N sat on the cold, tiled floor of her bathroom, staring down at the positive pregnancy test in her trembling hand.

"Shit," she muttered under her breath, as she forced herself to stand up, inhaling sharply.

With a flick of her wrist, she tossed the test into the bin, though it was the fourth one she'd taken.

The missed period and constant morning sickness should have been enough of a clue, but no—she had to pee on a stupid plastic stick to truly accept what was happening.

Pregnant. Gods, how could she let this happen?

And then beneath the clothes and boxers that hid the impressive length and girth of his cock. Y.N felt her throat go dry just thinking about it.

Oh- so that’s how it happened.

Neither of them had planned it. Blame the alcohol, the pent up lust, and the heat of the moment.

Still, it had been incredible, regardless of the consequences. A frustrated groan escaped her as she left the bathroom, wandering into her bedroom.

Her gaze fell to the bed, the same bed they’d writhed together on, naked and slick with sweat as he drove her over the edge again and again. She bit her lip as the memory of his hands, his mouth, sent a wave of heat through her.

Shaking her head, Y.N yanked on an oversized cardigan, trying to ignore the way her body reacted to the memory of him.

She needed to focus, to distract herself. Her feet carried her to the kitchen, where a pile of dishes awaited her. But instead of starting to wash them, her eyes landed on a photograph—her and Jacaerys.

Her ex-boyfriend.

She sighed, her chest tightening. They had broken up four months ago, but Jace had called her just two days ago, wanting to work things out.

Y.N's lips pressed together as she picked up the photo, staring at it for a moment before placing it face down on the counter.

Well, that wasn’t going to happen now.

Rubbing her hands over her face, she leaned against the counter. She knew what had to be done—first, she needed to make an appointment with the midwives.

Then, she needed to tell him. The father.

Gods, please don’t let him be an insufferable prick about it.

He had a tendency, didn’t he? Even though he’d changed since their school days, there was still a part of him that could be-difficult.

Her mind then betrayed her again, a flash of him working her body, bringing her to pieces with his tongue.

Y.N whimpered at the memory, her body trembling.

But this wasn’t the time for that.

She grabbed her phone, ignoring the sudden, nagging throb of need that lingered in her belly.

No, this was real now.

She dialled the number for the midwives office, steadying her breath as she booked an appointment for tomorrow.

The rest-well, that would have to come after.

The next day, Y.N sat in the waiting room of her local midwife centre, glancing around at the pastel-coloured walls and floral décor.

Boredom began to seep in as the minutes dragged by. The distant cries of babies echoed through the air, pulling her from her thoughts. She turned her head, catching a glimpse of a mother soothing a newborn, and despite everything, a warm, happy smile spread across her face.

"Y.N?" A stern voice interrupted her daydream.

Snapping to attention, Y.N stood up and followed the sour-looking midwife down a narrow corridor, her footsteps echoing off the linoleum floor. She was directed into a much warmer, cozier room, where the atmosphere softened.

"Good morning," a kindly midwife greeted her, adjusting her glasses as she stood beside a small ultrasound machine.

Y.N took a deep breath and stepped inside, her nerves prickling beneath her skin.

The midwife smiled kindly, beckoning her to sit. "When was your last period?" the woman asked gently, her pen hovering over a clipboard.

Y.N stared down at her hands, fidgeting with her fingers in her lap. "I-I don’t really remember-" she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

The midwife reached out, patting her shoulder reassuringly. "No matter, we’ll get a clearer picture. Let’s take a look, shall we?"

With a nervous nod, Y.N moved to the examination bed, pulling up her shirt and exposing her stomach.

She bit her lip, her anxiety bubbling as the midwife spread warm gel over her abdomen.

The midwife began moving the device across her stomach, her eyes fixed on the monitor. For a few moments, there was silence, the room filled only by the soft hum of the machine. Then suddenly, a faint but strong sound filled the air—a tiny, fluttering heartbeat.

Y.N sat up straighter, her eyes wide as they darted to the screen. There, amidst the blurry black and white image, was her child. Her child.

The sound washed over her, and without warning, tears welled up in her eyes. They slipped down her cheeks before she could stop them, happiness engulfing her in a way she hadn’t expected. It was the most incredible sound, the most undeniable proof that this was real.

"Everything looks good," the midwife said confidently, tapping a few buttons on the machine. "Nice strong heartbeat-I’d say that you’re roughly eight weeks pregnant."

Eight weeks. The child-was definitely his.

She managed a small, trembling smile, still trying to process the flood of emotions swirling inside her.

The midwife froze the image on the screen, printing out a picture and handing Y.N a tissue to wipe the gel from her skin.

Then she scribbled something on a notepad and tore off the page, handing it to her along with the ultrasound photo.

"You’ll need to come in every other month so we can monitor the pregnancy and see how things progress." The midwife smiled kindly again, pushing the paper into Y.N’s trembling hand.

“O-Ok” muttered Y.N

"Take this to the front desk, and they’ll schedule your next appointment."

"Thank you," Y.N mumbled quickly, her voice barely steady as she stood and made her way out of the room.

She paused in the hallway, staring down at the ultrasound scan she now held in her hands. There it was—a tiny figure. In black and white, undeniable proof.

She was really pregnant.

Y.N sat on her sofa, the weight of the day pressing down on her as she stared at the ultrasound picture in her hand.

A baby was growing inside her.

Her heart swelled with emotions she hadn't expected, a sudden surge that consumed her entirely.

She had never felt anything like this before—this fierce, protective love. It was as if her entire being had shifted, realigned with this new reality. Every fibre of her body already wanted this child, with a depth and intensity that stunned her.

The father deserved to know, of course. It wasn’t even a question. But as she sat there, staring at the picture, Y.N made a decision.

She wasn’t going to force anything out of him. If he wanted to be involved, then he would have to choose that path himself.

Exhaling, Y.N sank deeper into the sofa, pulling her legs up beneath her as her eyes flitted over to the magazine that lay on her coffee table.

There he was, arm draped around his girlfriend—a dark-haired, older woman dressed in designer finery, the picture of elegance and wealth.

And he—clad in a perfectly tailored suit that moulded itself to his lithe, muscular frame—looked every bit the part of someone whose life was wrapped in perfection.

He was part of the Targaryen dynasty, one of the wealthiest families around. He and his half-sister Rhaenyra had taken over Targaryen Inc. after their father Viserys had passed away and Aegon, his older brother, had refused to step up, content to live off his inheritance.

Y.N’s lips pressed together as she wondered, for what felt like the hundredth time, how he would react to the news. Would he embrace it? Take responsibility? Or would he ignore it, pretend it didn’t exist?

Their lives were already so different, so far apart from where they’d started. Whatever happened, whatever choice he made, there was no denying that their lives were about to spiral into a whirlwind neither of them had expected.

She pulled a blanket around herself, snuggling deeper into its warmth as she closed her eyes, letting herself drift back to the night it all started.

It had started at Helaena’s flat, where Y.N was nervously tugging at the hem of her dress, glancing at herself in the mirror. “Do you think this dress looks okay?” she asked, turning to Helaena, who was adjusting her own makeup at the vanity.

Helaena smiled warmly, “You look beautiful, Y.N. Seriously. You have nothing to worry about.”

Y.N sighed, feeling a knot of anxiety twist in her stomach. “Sorry, I’m just nervous. I haven’t been clubbing since before I was dating Jace, and now that we’re over-” She trailed off, biting her lip. “-I’ve heard he’s seeing someone new. A girl named Sara”

Helaena waved her hand dismissively. “Forget about him. Tonight isn’t about arsehole ex-boyfriends.”

Y.N raised an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “Isn’t he your nephew?”

Helaena smirked back, her eyes twinkling mischievously. “Exactly, which is why I’m perfectly entitled to call him an arsehole. Now come on, let’s go enjoy ourselves.”

Y.N nodded, feeling the tension lift slightly as she followed Helaena out of the flat. They ended up at a club called Dragon’s Den, a pulsing, neon-lit space that buzzed with energy.

After an hour of drinks and dancing, the alcohol had finally started to work its magic. Y.N’s nerves faded away, replaced by a light, heady feeling of freedom.

“Oh, look,” Helaena waved excitedly, “-My brothers have finally arrived-took them long enough"

Y.N turned and her breath caught in her throat.

Lord almighty.

Aegon, the eldest, was grinning widely as he weaved through the crowd, his bubbly and cheerful demeanour making him instantly noticeable. Then there was Daeron, the youngest, with his hypnotic blue eyes and infectious smile, the picture of youthful charm.

But it was the man trailing behind them, cutting through the crowd with a quiet intensity, who made her heart stutter.

Aemond.

His silver hair was tied back, revealing the sharp, angular lines of his face, the eyepatch only adding to his dark allure.

Gods, did he always look that good?

Y.N mentally kicked herself. Damn it, what the hell was wrong with her? Clearly, the alcohol was clouding her senses, making her thoughts wander.

But when they locked eyes over the dancing crowd, and he smirked—that smug, knowing smirk—and something stirred inside her.

She forced herself to smile back half-heartedly and then, defiantly, turned her back on him.

Y.N threw back her drink, requesting another when she felt a gentle tap on her shoulder. Turning around, she was met with Daeron’s beaming face, his gorgeous blue eyes crinkled in the corners.

“Good to see you, Y.N.” He kissed her hand in a playful, old-fashioned gesture.

“Daeron, how have you been?” she asked, though her attention briefly flickered to the man across the floor still watching her intently.

“I’ve been good, thanks for asking,” Daeron replied cheerfully, his fingers still holding hers. “Would you like to dance?”

Y.N glanced at Helaena, who gave her a subtle nod of encouragement. Looking back at Daeron’s hand, she replied politely, “Yes, I’d like to dance.”

Daeron beamed, leading her onto the dance floor. His hand on her waist pulled her close as they swayed to the rhythm of the music, and they fell into easy conversation, his charm and humour quickly making her laugh. For a brief moment, Y.N felt light, carefree.

But then, a voice—low, sultry, and cutting—sliced through the noise.

“Do you mind if I cut in?”

Daeron smirked, stepping back slightly as he glanced at Y.N. “It’s up to her,” he said with a shrug.

Y.N turned, and there he was—Aemond, standing tall, his intense gaze fixed on her. He extended a hand, his interest undeniable.

Without hesitation, Y.N let out a small laugh and took his hand.

“-Arse” she heard Daeron mutter as he moved away from them.

Aemond’s fingers brushed against her skin as he pulled her close, closer than she had been to Daeron. His body was firm against hers, his hand resting possessively at the small of her back.

“Look at you” said Aemond, his voice thick with something more than just amusement.

She looked up at him, refusing to back down. “I saw you looking earlier”

“You were always pretty, but tonight-you’re stunning-”

Y.N laughed softly. “I thought I was annoying and insufferable—or at least, that’s what you used to say to me back in school.”

Aemond’s eye gleamed with amusement. “Clearly, things have changed.”

Tilting her head, Y.N smirked. “How’s your grandma? I mean, Alys?”

Aemond let out a deep laugh, shaking his head. “She's with Larys in America.”

Her eyes traced the lines of his neck, landing on his lips. “So-that explains your attention tonight?”

He let one hand go and tipped her chin up, staring into her flustered face. “I’ve always appreciated a beautiful woman.”

Then, leaning in, his breath hot against her ear, he whispered, “And you are beautiful.”

After two more songs, with Aemond's hand firmly guiding her across the dance floor, Y.N could feel the tension between them growing, the air charged with something far more than just the rhythm of the music.

His touch was deliberate, the way he held her close to his body unmistakable, and her pulse quickened every time he looked down at her, his intense gaze burning into her skin.

As the last song ended, Aemond leaned down, his breath warm against her ear. “Let me buy you a drink,” he offered, his voice smooth and low.

Y.N nodded, trying to keep her composure as they made their way to the bar. The crowd around them seemed to blur, the music fading into the background as she focused on the man standing beside her.

As soon as they reached the bar, he gestured to the bartender and ordered two drinks.

“How are things with you and my nephew?” Aemond asked casually, leaning on the counter as he turned to face her.

Y.N let out a dry laugh, downing her drink in one swift motion, grimacing at the sharp taste of alcohol burning down her throat.

“There is no me and Jace” she said, her voice tinged with bitterness. “Not anymore. He was with some girl from up north called Sara”

Aemond huffed in response, his lips curling into a slight smirk. “His loss,” he said simply, as he downed his whiskey with ease. He ordered another round for the both of them, and Y.N couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at him.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” she asked, her tone laced with curiosity. “I thought you hated me.”

Aemond scoffed, setting his empty glass down on the bar. “I don’t hate you, Y.N. I never did.”

Y.N blinked in surprise. “Could’ve fooled me,” she muttered. “So why act like you did?”

Aemond’s jaw tightened as he poured the truth out, more candid than she’d ever seen him. “I was a prick,” he admitted, a rare look of vulnerability flashing in his eye. “Too scared to act on how I felt, so I pushed you away. It was easier to be a bastard than to admit I was attracted to you.”

Her eyes widened at his words, genuinely surprised by his honesty. Aemond wasn’t exactly known for wearing his emotions on his sleeve.

“I’m-surprised you’re being this open,” she said, her lips curving into a small smile. “You’re usually all stoic and reserved. Like no one ever really knows what’s going on inside that head of yours.”

He smirked again, the edge of his lips curling into a half smile. “I’ve changed since you last saw me,” he replied, his voice softer than before.

Y.N studied him for a moment, and she had to admit that there was something different about him now.

Something more relaxed, more assured. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was clear that this wasn’t the same Aemond she’d known back in school.

The same Aemond who teased her, the same Aemond she once had a crush on.

She smiled, downing the rest of her drink as her mind began to feel delightfully fuzzy from the alcohol.

She was vaguely aware of Aemond ordering another drink, but before it arrived, she leaned toward him, her words slurring just slightly. “I’ve got more drinks back at my flat.”

Aemond looked at her for a moment, then grinned, a glint of something dangerous flickering in his eye. “Then let’s go.”

Without hesitation, he took her hand, his fingers warm and firm around hers as he led her away from the bar. They weaved through the crowd, Y.N barely registering the other people around them as she focused on Aemond’s touch, the way his hand didn’t let go, even for a second.

He shouted over to Aegon, something about leaving, but she barely heard it.

The next thing she knew, they were stepping outside into the cool night air, the noise of the club fading into the background as they hailed a taxi.

Y.N’s heart pounded in her chest, and she felt a rush of excitement—something reckless, something wild—course through her veins as they climbed into the back seat together.

The taxi ride was a blur, the tension between them thickening with every passing second. Y.N could feel Aemond’s gaze on her, the heat between them unmistakable. As they pulled up to her flat, she glanced at him, and in that moment, she knew there was no turning back.

Y.N fumbled with her keys, her hands shaking slightly as she finally managed to unlock the door. She pushed it open and turned to Aemond, stepping aside to let him in.

"It's not much, but it's home," she said, her voice a little breathless as she closed the door behind them.

Aemond hummed in response, his eye scanning the flat. He didn’t say much, just let his gaze drift around the room, but Y.N could feel the tension building, thick and heavy between them.

“So-what would you like to drink?” she asked, turning to him with a slight smile, trying to keep things light even though her heart was pounding in her chest.

Aemond’s gaze flicked to hers, his blue eye intense and unwavering. “We both know I didn’t come here for a drink,” he said, his voice low and sultry.

Before she could respond, his hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as he pulled her toward him.

His lips crashed against hers, and she let out a soft gasp of surprise before melting into the kiss. It was hungry, desperate—his lips moving over hers like he’d been waiting for this moment far longer than either of them could have admitted.

Y.N’s hands roamed his shoulders, before slipping off his jacket and then tugging at the buttons of his shirt.

Aemond’s hands were equally impatient, slipping round her back and partially unzipping her dress, his fingers grazing against her skin, sending sparks of heat through her body.

Between kisses, his voice was low and gravelly, “Bedroom.”

Y.N pulled back just enough to nod, her breath shaky. “This way,” she whispered, taking his hand and leading him down the short hallway to her room.

The moment they stepped inside, the tension that had been building between them snapped, and Aemond was back on her.

His hands cupped her face, pulling her into another searing kiss, and Y.N moaned into his mouth as she felt his long fingers sliding up the back of her neck and into her hair.

“I-I want to see you” muttered Y.N softly.

Aemond slipped his fingers under the strap of his eyepatch and pulled it from his head.

Y.N stood silent she stared at the scar the bisected his cheek, extending through his eyebrow. The sapphire that he’d placed in the eye socket, glinted in the moonlight.

“You are-so-beautiful” whispered Y.N as she leaned forward and placed a number of kisses along his scarred cheek and over the sapphire.

Aemond closed his eye in delight at the tender gesture, a contented sigh escaping his lips.

“Hmmm” rasped Aemond as he ran his thumb over Y.N’s bottom lip, his eye going wide as she opened her mouth and nipped at his thumb before sucking it into her mouth.

“Please-“ moaned Y.N

Aemond’s gaze locked onto hers, his eye dark with desire. "You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this," he whispered, his voice rough, filled with a mix of longing and restraint.

Y.N’s heart pounded in her chest as she reached for him, pulling him closer. "Then don’t stop," she whispered back, her voice soft but urgent.

Wasting no time, he pulled Y.N to him, his lips once again claiming hers.

He put his arm around her waist and kissed her passionately, deepening the kiss as she moaned into his mouth. His tongue pushing against hers.

Y.N ran her fingers across his lithe body. His muscles rippled under her fingertips.

She finished unbuttoning the white shirt he wore, placing feathery kisses on his sparsely haired chest as the shirt was removed.

Her fingers toying with the silver cross chain he wore.

Groaning against her creamy smooth skin, he kissed her neck, sucking on the delicate flesh as she leaned into him, enjoying his every touch.

Her dress felt heavy on her. She wanted to be rid of it. She wanted to feel his skin on hers. She reluctantly broke free of his embrace and turned her back to him moving her hair out of the way.

His fingers trembled as he grasped the zip to her dress and pulled it the rest of the way down, the sound echoed through the quiet apartment, and he pressed his lips to the back of her neck.

Using his long fingers, he freed her from the confinements of her dress, and it fell to join his shirt on the floor.

She wasn’t wearing a bra, which seemed to excite him.

Goosebumps appeared where his fingers moved over her. Cupping her ample breasts from behind, Aemond pulled Y.N against his chest. Burying himself in the crook of her neck, sucking on the skin whilst his fingers massaged the soft mounds and played with her hardened nipples.

Aemond turned her to face him. Kissing her again, he trailed kisses down her body and took a rosy nipple in his mouth. Sucking on the bud, he bit down lightly, earning a low moan from deep within her.

He continued his actions on the other breast and kissed past her stomach until he knelt before her. Her fingers in his hair tightened as he ran the tips of his fingers from her stomach down to her core.

Slowly he grasped the lace of her knickers and ripped them from her, pressing the ruined material to his nose and inhaling her scent before standing up.

Y.N reached forward to undo the buttons on his trousers, then she directed him backwards towards the bed.

Her fingers stroked his body, not missing an inch of flesh, admiring the way his muscles twitched under her touch.

Biting down on her lip, she knelt between his legs, and pulled his trousers and boxers down his shapely legs and threw them on the floor.

Gods. His cock. It was impressive.

Y.N wanted to put it in her mouth, to taste him, but before she could, Aemond leaned forward and pulled her onto the bed.

He covered her body with his as he sucked and licked at the delicate skin of her neck, leaving red marks in his wake.

Y.N moved her head to the side and moaned loudly as she felt Aemond’s teeth nipping at her skin.

Ooo A-Aemond” exclaimed Y.N as he moved down her body, nibbling her at her skin as he went.

“Such a pretty pussy " breathed Aemond, spitting on her pussy before he ran the flat of his tongue up her soaked slit, from bottom to the top, tasting her.

“Oh, my god” moaned Y.N her eyes rolling into the back of her head.

“That’s it my sweet. Let me hear you”.

“YES! It feels so good. Don’t stop. Aemond. Please” begged Y.N.

"Delicious" purred Aemond as he began lapping at Y.N, running his tongue along every fold.

"More" panted Y.N. "Please. I need more”.

Aemond inserted two fingers, sliding them in and out of her slick wet folds.

“Oh, fuck" whimpered Y.N; her chest heaving.

Aemond’s fingers were soaking wet as they continued to pump in and out of her tight heat.

“I can’t wait to get my cock inside you. I don’t want to wait any longer, come for me baby,” moaned Aemond, his face pressed between her shaking thighs.

Y.N arched her back and screamed as her climax washed over her.

Aemond pumped slowly and lapped at her centre as she squirted all over his face.

“P-Please A-Aemond. Need you” begged Y.N.

Aemond rose to his knees, his chin shining with her slick, he smirked as he swiped his fingers over his chin and then placed them in his mouth.

Aemond moved up Y.N’s body pausing to grasp hold of her left breast as he ran his tongue over the rosy nipple, his teeth grazing the stiffened peak.

“Oh-yes“ gasped Y.N, as he moved to the other breast and lavished it with the same attention.

Aemond then grabbed her around the waist and manoeuvred her body on top of his.

“I want you to ride me-” exclaimed Aemond as he lined up his cock with her entrance and sheathed himself inside her with one hard thrust.

Y.N moaned as Aemond withdrew and entered into her repeatedly.

Faster and faster. Harder and deeper, his fingers digging into the flesh of her hips.

"Please don't stop," cried out Y.N

"I have no intention of stopping" growled Aemond, his feet planted firmly on the bed to allow him to increase the intensity of his thrusts.

A satisfied smile spread across his face as he quickened and angled his movements, so his cock rubbed on that special place inside her.

Aemond seemed mesmerized by the sight of her breasts bouncing in front of him as he surged forward, his mouth wrapping around one rosy bud.

His teeth and tongue teasing the stiffened peak.

“Gods-yes Aemond” shrieked Y.N as she bounced on his cock, her hands coiled in is long silver hair.

“That’s it baby-take it-take all of me” growled Aemond leaning back as he moved Y.N’s hips in time with his thrusts.

“Oh gods-” wailed Y.N.

“That’s it-FUCK Y.N” groaned Aemond as he took hold of her and quickly manoeuvred her onto her back, his cock never leaving the warm wetness of her as he began to pound into her, the sounds of skin slapping on skin echoing around her bedroom.

“P-Please Aemond. Don’t stop. Don��t stop-“ whimpered Y.N.

“Come for me baby-come for me” growled Aemond as he felt her clenching around him.

“AEMOND” screamed Y.N as she exploded, her nails digging into his back.

Aemond held back for as long as he could, but his release was upon him.

With a final hard thrust, he spilled rope after rope of his seed.

He muffled his groans into her mouth as she hung onto him, kissing him fervently.

She held him close to her body, whispering words of comfort and satisfaction while running her fingers down his back.

Y.N was startled awake by a loud, insistent banging on the door. She groaned, rubbing her eyes, still groggy from falling asleep on the sofa.

Straightening her oversized cardigan, she walked over to the door, her heart skipping a beat as she wondered who could be knocking this late.

When she opened the door, she found Jace standing there, his face a mix of uncertainty and determination. “Can I come in?” he asked, his voice tense but soft.

Y.N hesitated for a moment, her mind racing. The last thing she expected was to see Jace at her doorstep.

But eventually, she pushed the door open wider, allowing him to step inside. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead—a gesture that made her stomach churn with discomfort—and she shut the door behind him.

Watching him as he walked around her flat, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for answers, she could feel the weight of his presence growing heavier.

He finally settled on the sofa, looking up at her. "What do you want, Jace?" she asked, crossing her arms as she stood a few feet away.

He patted the space next to him, signalling for her to sit. Reluctantly, she did, keeping her distance.

"I've been thinking about what you said before we broke up," he began, his tone measured, "and I realize now that having a solid commitment is a good idea. I wasn’t ready before, but I’ve been thinking—about us, about our future. I want to fix things. Maybe even-get married."

Y.N’s heart clenched, panic flooding her chest. Before she could stop herself, she blurted out, "I can't marry you, Jace. I-I'm pregnant."

The words hung in the air, and Jace froze, his expression shifting from surprise to confusion. He blinked a few times before a smile broke through. “That’s-that’s wonderful news,” he said, reaching out to take her hand.

But Y.N quickly pulled her hand back, steeling herself for what came next. “It’s not yours,” she whispered.

Jace's smile evaporated, replaced by pure shock. His eyes widened as the realization hit him. "What? You-cheated on me?"

Y.N bristled at the accusation. “We were broken up, Jace. It wasn’t cheating.”

Jace stood, pacing the small living room, running a hand through his hair as his temper flared. “And you think that makes it okay? After everything—who is it, Y.N? Who’s the father?”

She crossed her arms defensively. “I can’t tell you that. Not yet.”

Jace’s fists clenched. His voice grew louder, his words biting. “I’ll find out. And when I do, I swear I’ll beat the shit out of him.”

Y.N couldn’t help the laugh that escaped her lips, a short, incredulous sound at the absurdity of it.

The thought of Jace going after Aemond, who would undoubtedly destroy him in any confrontation, was almost too much to handle.

“You think this is funny?” he snapped, his face red with anger.

“No, I think you’re being ridiculous,” she shot back. “We were broken up. You don’t get to be mad about this. And let’s not forget, you went off with Sara right after we ended things. So, it’s okay for you to go and stick it in someone else, but I can’t have a one-night stand?”

Jace’s face twisted in frustration, his voice breaking as he snarled, “That was a mistake! I—"

Y.N cut him off. “Well, so was this. But it happened. And now I’m pregnant, and I haven’t even told the father yet. So, I’d appreciate it if you kept this to yourself until I do.”

Jace’s face fell into a mixture of anger and disbelief. “I know him, don’t I?”

Y.N hesitated, then nodded. There was no point in lying.

Jace’s fury bubbled over as he shouted, “How could you do this?!” His voice echoed through the flat, the tension palpable.

Y.N had had enough. Her body tensed as she stood, glaring at him with cold resolve. “Jace. I’m done, I want you to leave”

“Y.N-”

“Please leave,” said Y.N firmly.

Jace’s anger wavered, replaced by a sad, desperate look as he moved towards the door, his hand on the handle.

“Is it really over? Is there no chance for us?”

Y.N’s eyes softened, but she didn’t falter. “It’s over Jace. It’s for the best.”

Tears welled in his eyes as he nodded, slowly opening the door and stepping out into the hallway. He paused, his back still turned to her, before disappearing into the night without another word.

Y.N shut the door quietly behind him, her heart heavy but certain she had made the right choice.

The next morning, Y.N stood in front of her wardrobe, pulling out outfit after outfit, nerves rattling through her body.

She wasn’t sure why it mattered so much, but every choice felt wrong. After trying on a casual dress, then jeans, and a sweater, she finally settled on a smart skirt and blouse.

She wanted to look put together—not too formal, but not too relaxed either. After all, she was about to deliver life-changing news.

Her fingers trembled as she brushed her hair and applied light makeup, glancing at herself in the mirror.

She couldn’t stop thinking about how Aemond would react. But one thing was certain: no matter his response, this baby was hers. She was determined to protect and love this child with or without him.

Finally, after a last glance at her reflection, she grabbed her handbag and headed out the door. She hailed a taxi and gave the driver the address for Targaryen Inc.

As the car wove through the busy city streets, her heart raced. She rehearsed what she would say, but each scenario in her head ended differently. She sighed, leaning her head against the window.

The towering skyscraper of Targaryen Inc. loomed ahead, sleek and modern with reflective glass panels stretching toward the sky. She paid the driver, stepped out, and took a deep breath before walking into the grand lobby.

The building was immaculate, with marble floors and chic modern décor. It exuded wealth and power—much like the man she was here to see.

"Good morning, how can I help you?" the receptionist asked with a welcoming smile.

“I’m here to see Aemond Targaryen,” Y.N replied, her voice calm though her insides were twisting.

The receptionist gave a polite nod and directed her to take the lift to the 20th floor. "Someone will assist you there," she said, gesturing toward the sleek elevators at the far end of the lobby.

Y.N thanked her and walked toward the lift, her heels clicking softly against the polished floor. Once inside, she pressed the button for the 20th floor and clasped her hands tightly around the buckle of her handbag.

The quiet music in the lift did little to ease her growing anxiety. She glanced at the floor numbers ticking upward, willing her heart to steady. This was it.

When the lift doors slid open, Y.N stepped out into an elegant office floor. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne, and the space was immaculately designed—sharp, minimalistic, and cold.

A haughty-looking woman with perfect posture greeted her at a sleek desk.

“Can I help you?” the woman asked, her tone professional yet distant.

“I’m here to see Aemond Targaryen,” Y.N said, mustering her confidence, even as her fingers fidgeted nervously with her handbag again.

The woman raised an eyebrow and looked her up and down, clearly assessing her. “Do you have an appointment?” she asked, flipping through the pages of a file on her desk.

Y.N hesitated for a moment before replying, “No, but I’m an old friend. I’m sure Aemond will make time to see me.”

The woman pursed her lips, her fingers pausing over the file. “Let me see if Mr. Targaryen is available.”

She asked for Y.N.’s name, and she told her, watching as the woman nodded and picked up the phone.

Y.N’s stomach twisted as she took a seat in the waiting area, glancing around at the perfectly curated space.

A few tense minutes passed before the woman called out to her.

“Mr. Targaryen will see you now,”

TBC.

#house of the dragon #aemond targaryen #hotd aemond #aemond fanfiction #hotd fanfic #aemond fic #hotd fic #aemond one eye #aemond #aemond smut #aemond x reader

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rosemaze-reveries · 5 months

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During an interview, the manor guests suddenly get a question about you. (Part 2)

hello hello! here is part 2 as promised. there are less characters than I hoped to write, but in exchange each blurb is a little longer than pt.1 !

part 1 can be found here

🦌🪼🤡🦎🪞🤕🕯️🎭

Q. Could you describe your relationship with (Y/N)?

🦌 Bane rubs his chin, tracing his memory. "Hm... Indeed, I'm familiar with that name. I'd suppose that's someone I knew when I worked for the DeRosses." He crosses his arms with a low, contemplative grunt, as if struggling to remember anything else. "I'd need a photograph." I happen to have a couple on hand, and he takes them gently. A long period of silence follows. After leafing through the photos for some time, he says: "I remember. They were always talking about marriage." With you? "Mm. I was never interested, but I never said no. Eventually I made them a ring from a scrap of iron. I hoped they'd stop visiting me if I satisfied them... It's too dangerous to come to the forest everyday." Then he reaches into his pocket, pulling out a ring of his own. "In exchange, they gave one back." He's been cherishing it all this time, even when he'd forgotten its origin.

🪼 Ivy - "I'm no stranger to feeling like I'm missing my other half, you know. That sense of loss is one of the only constants I have left. (Y/N) fills my emptiness, and without them it increases twofold." I open my mouth to ask, Do you think you could be soulmates? but then my eyes dart to the Yithian and I realize my mistake. Sorry, was that insensitive? Ivy is not amused with my implication that she might be interested in claiming (Y/N)'s soul. "My dear interviewer, I am a scholar, not a monster. Whatever you're insinuating, you're gravely mistaken."

🤡 Joker's face suddenly hardens, in spite of the fragile, twiddling-thumbs demeanor he'd shown me thus far. His hands ball into shaking fists and his lips purse, as if he's psyching himself up for a fight. Are you okay? I ask, preemptively guarding myself with my clipboard. Tears brim his eyes and the strength falls from his shoulders. He mutters out, "All I wanted was to be their sword and shield, their angel of light, and they left me out of my mind. Hahaha... Wanna know the biggest joke of all? I'd let them drive me crazy all over again."

🦎 Luchino's mouth stretches into a lazy grin. "That one's a cutie, eh? Had the pleasure of meeting them yet?" I shake my head, reminding him that (Y/N) is the focus of my current investigation. I guess his laidback attitude fooled me into saying too much. He promptly straightens his back, the smile fading. "Yeah... Yeah, from one researcher to another, I get the intrigue," he says. "But I can't say I fancy another guy using my love as a test subject."

🪞 Mary - "Do you take pleasure in nosing around a lady's private affairs? I'd expect more tact, even for an interviewer." The chill in her tone startles me. I sputter out something in my defense, but Mary huffs and waves me into silence. "(Y/N) is enjoying the privilege of being my right-hand. They're my favorite one so far, too. I dismissed the others without a second thought."

🤕 Naib - "On good terms." Wringing out any insightful answers from this man is tougher than I thought. In hopes of inspiring more of a reaction, I tell a small lie: When I interviewed (Y/N), they described a rather colorful affection for you... Almost immediately, Naib breaks eye contact and crosses his arms. But I still only get a guttural "Hm." in response. Can you confirm if this is true? I press. His answer is, once again, a curt "Hm." (Slightly more affirmative, I would say).

🕯️ Philippe - "My work has always stood as a testament to my love," he caresses the wax figure grafted onto his shoulder, "but shielding someone in life is a far greater challenge than honoring my losses. My worries are endless." Suddenly reminded of his sister's tragedy, I offer a sympathetic smile. Do you believe (Y/N) is in danger? Philippe returns my smile, though I can't make out the intent. "Of course. Evil lurks around every corner. At the very least, it won't reach them while I'm around."

🎭 Sangria - A fond smile graces her face as she recounts her memory. "It was clear to me after some time that I had disastrously entranced them." Then she adds, lightly, "I hadn't meant to, of course. At the time, I thought, I'm not looking for love—no, I'd had enough of it all—but soon, their smile would appear in my mind every time I sang. When someone gives you that much inspiration? You'd be a fool to let them go." She has a playful tone of voice, but I can tell (Y/N) means a great deal to her.

#SORRY FOR THE DELAY 😭 did not mean to disappear for a month oml #identity v #idv x reader #identity v x reader #bane perez x reader #ivy x reader #joker x reader #luchino diruse x reader #mary x reader #naib subedar x reader #philippe x reader #sangria x reader #idv imagines

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saetoru · 2 years

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tee tee tee i wanna share rich boy gojo thoughts that have been on my mind. imagine him pouting in the corner as you gossip and laugh with his mom in the living room while she shows you his baby pictures!!! i feel like he would be the cutest (and more embarrassing) child ever lollll it would be a good opportunity to tease him a bit

[ BABY ] GOJO SATORU.

satoru is pouting—which, truthfully, you don’t think there are all that many moments where he’s not pouting—but he seems to be pouting a little extra right now. maybe you should feel bad, and maybe you should feel a little guilty that he’s sulking because of you…but then his mother flips the page of the baby album in her hands, and you suddenly don’t care as much about your petulant boyfriend anymore.

“this is satoru after he scraped his knee for the first time,” she giggles, pointing to tiny, red and teary-faced satoru staring up at the camera, making you snort as you lean closer for a better look.

“he looks ridiculous,” you laugh, and distantly, you can hear satoru gasp at the comment, crossing his arms and sending you a glare from across the living room.

“i was in pain,” he huffs, “extremely excruciating pain! and my mother stopped to photograph my misfortune. who does that?”

to his dismay, you don’t even spare him a glance, pointing to the next picture of the album and giggling away with his mother, whispering what he’s sure is yet another mean and rude comment making fun of him. what kid doesn’t fall and scrape their knee? and what kid doesn’t cry when they fall and scrape their knee? normal children shed tears in the face of extreme pain, and gojo satoru is not an exception to this fact—in fact, he likes to think he was one of the braver children.

“satoru, you were such a crybaby growing up,” his mother shakes her head, amusement lacing her tone as you chuckle and shoot him a sly grin.

“so nothing’s changed,” you hum, “he’s still a crybaby now too.”

“am not!” he gasps, “take that back, you liar—”

“—and this is satoru on his first day of school,” his mother hums, cutting him off and pointing to a picture of a young satoru waving at the camera, missing what you’re sure is his entire front row of teeth. you grin, letting out a small chuckle as your eyes soften at the image.

usually, gojo satoru is a handful. he’s loud and annoying and he talks far too much for his own good. he makes your life increasingly difficult with the stubbornness he wears like a second skin, and he makes you want to crawl into a hole half the time you’re in public for all the scenes he seems to always cause. but sometimes…sometimes gojo satoru is also very cute—like in this photo for example, with chubby cheeks and a bright grin on his face as he stands in his school uniform.

“aw,” you coo, making him perk up a little at the sound, “how cute.”

“i was a cute kid, wasn’t i?” he grins, and almost as though he was never pouting in the first place, his mood switches at the slightest bit of praise. you roll your eyes, giving him a flat look as you eye him while he walks over to you, flopping onto the space beside you and looking voer your shoulder.

“you were,” you nod, making a point to eye him up and down and raise a brow, “i wonder what happened.”

he gasps, and the pout from earlier returns once more—and you can’t say you’re surprised. “rude! i’m still super cute,” he grumbles, and because he’s gojo satoru, the most annoying man you’ve ever had the pleasure of encountering on the face of the planet, he pokes your shoulder repeatedly. “admit it, you find me cute,” he whines, “you literally called me cute this morning.”

“that’s cause you were sleeping,” you shrug, “you’re really cute when you shut up.”

“yes, my favorite satoru was always a napping satoru growing up,” his mother adds from the side.

“wha—mom!” he protests, watching as you and his mother snicker together. satoru wonders how the both of you can claim to love him when you treat him like this—wounding his pride with every insult thrown his way. he crosses his arms, angling his body away from you as you giggle and wrap yourself around him.

“we’re just kidding, toru,” you grin, reaching to pinch his cheek, chuckling when he swats your hand away with a grunt, “you’re really the cutest. promise!”

“you’re a liar,” he mumbles, shooting you a glare as you fight back an amused smile, “you said you loved me, but clearly you lied to me.”

“i do love you,” you insist, “and i love your baby pictures too.”

usually, satoru feels his heart soften when he watches you and his mother get along—he thinks he falls in love with you just a little harder every time he watches your eyes light up when you see the women who raised him. but sometimes (like right now), he wishes he never introduced you to his mother—he’s not so sure he’s your favorite gojo anymore, and the idea wounds his pride more than a little. he’s also almost certain you prefer spending time with his mother over him, and he’s even more certain his mother wishes you were the one she raised instead. he almost feels like the third wheel half the time he brings you over and his mother’s home—and he can’t help but wonder…who do you even love more, him or his mother?

he thinks he has his answer though when you lean in and press a gentle kiss to his jaw. no matter how often you two giggle at his expense, you do not kiss his mother on the jaw, and satoru can’t help but shoot a smirk her way as she rolls her eyes and stands.

“there are more i have to dig up sometime,” mrs. gojo hums, making satoru groan as you nod eagerly, “i’ll leave you two alone for a while.”

“i’m starting to think you come over for my mom instead of me,” satoru huffs as his mother leaves the room, making you roll your eyes as you lean into his side. he wraps an arm around you, pulling you flush against his body, relaxing as your hand finds his chest and rubs slow circles.

“only you would be jealous of your own mother,” you snort.

“i’m not jealous,” he protests, “i’m simply concerned that you ignore your boyfriend for hours to make fun of him with his mother.”

if there’s one thing you’ve learned after flipping through page after page of crying baby pictures, it’s that gojo satoru has been dramatic since the day he was born—this fact doesn’t change even in his adult years. but if there’s one other thing you’ve learned—it’s that he’s endearing, just a little too cute for his own good, just a little too dangerously charming whether it’s the camera he’s pouting at or you. you can’t help but shuffle closer, hugging him tightly as you smile softly into his shirt.

“c’mon,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his chest, “you know you’re my favorite. i do wish i had a baby satoru to cuddle, though.”

“you have me,” he glares, “i’m satoru and i’m your baby and you can cuddle me.”

“it’s not the same,” you tease, “you talk too much.”

“i’ll have you know i got in trouble quite a lot as a child for talking too much. adult satoru is a lot better.” somehow, you’re not surprised—and a small part of you is almost grateful you didn’t know satoru in his young, obnoxious days as a child. an even bigger part of you feels bad for his mother and the strength she must’ve needed to raise the handful of a boyfriend in your arms. “and besides,” he smirks, leaning down to pull you into a brief kiss, “if you want a baby gojo, i can easily give you one—”

“satoru,” you hiss, swatting his shoulder and making him pout as he rubs over the spot you’ve hit, “one of you is more than enough. we don’t need another.”

#teepods.writings #drabbles.#rich boy! au #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru fluff

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ssavaart · 8 months

Text

Happy Friday All!

In early 2020 (before Covid), I was painting larger paintings like this with Acryla-Gouache. I was really enjoying the medium.

I was inspired by a couple of photos by Annie Bertram on Deviant Art and asked permission to use them for reference.

Since I was just doing these for myself... I had NO plan. No test drawings. No layouts. I just started drawing on a large piece of paper and figured it out as I went.

Because of this... I never really figured out what to do with the hand on the left.

So... it just kind of disappeared.

I may go back and add it in later, I think.

But, for now... it's always a reminder of a time where I just broke out the paints and... played.

A couple months later... Covid hit and it was 3 years until I did my next large painting (the Gothic Vampire).

(Note: I can't find a reply from the photographer regarding permission or not. My memory is I heard back. But I can't find it.)

I DID hear from the model Theresa Fractale, a couple of years later, who was VERY upset that I had sold some postcards of the painting without her permission.

I was mortified. I hadn't even considered reaching out to the model. I offered her and Annie Bertram all of the profits I made from the sales, but she wasn't satisfied... and we left it at that.

These things DO happen with artists. Sometimes people claim you've "stolen" their art or style or likeness. And sometimes they have legitimate reason to do so.

Me, personally... I believe that artists should use ALL of the world around them for inspiration and if it is HEAVILY influenced by one artist or work of art... CREDIT them.

But change it. Don't directly copy it (unless you're studying someone's work... in which case... copy away).

But always credit.

I believe I REFERENCED the photos above, but didn't copy them.

But, I DID heavily reference them and, honestly, had NO intention of selling it (I still own the painting) or prints (I had only sold a few postcards before being contacted by the model... then stopped).

In any case... if the model or the photographer is unhappy with me selling prints... I don't sell prints. It's that simple.

Their work directly inspired MY work and while I feel that I've changed it enough to be unique... I don't want to cause another artist harm in any way.

Every artist is different. Some are open to sharing their art (like me) and others are very protective of their art.

But, there are no RULES to art. There is no such thing as "cheating" in art. There IS copyright LAW. And that is theft.

But that law ONLY (as far as I know) works if you are SELLING a copy of someone else's work. Profiting from it.

Not for learning. Not for practice. And not for posting online.

Just please... PLEASE credit the artist you're copying. Tell people why you are copying.

Nowadays, if I'm going to do a painting I plan on making prints of, I either use stock photography I've paid for or I get permission and pay the rights holder.

But, this is ONLY for pieces I want to sell prints of.

You do NOT need permission to use photo reference or even copy another artist's work for your portfolio or to post online.

Credit them. Share your inspiration with others. Tell them why you copied the works

But you don't need permission simply to make art. Ever.

Art should be shared. Copied. Studied. And most of all... enjoyed.

Sending Big Hugs from the Hobbit Hole. ♥♥♥

Scott

#art #traditional art #artists on tumblr #drawing #art nouveau #fantasy art #gouache painting #acryla gouache #annie bertram

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decolonize-the-everything · 1 year

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I've noticed a rise in radfems/TERFs in feminism tags and more specifically trying to rebrand as The Real Feminism or True Feminism since it's "for the girlies" or whatever.

I am begging you all to help me bury them.

Because as a teen who grew up during the peak of exclusionary "bi/pan/aces aren't vaild" and "kill all men" era where the concept of misandry THRIVED I'm telling you this feels extremely similar.

And radfem/terf ideology got mainstream from those sentiments being so popular and so easy to tap into. It was framed as being righteous since men were oppressors.

"Women are good and men are just mean oppressors! Look at everything they've done!" is such a common sentiment in those circles.

It also completely lacks critical feminist thought.

And we're STILL dealing with the affects of it over a decade later.

.....So let's talk about JKR since she's currently the Figurehead and favorite of the movement that's trying to rewrite feminist history.

It's 2023. It's a year before a US election where Project 2025 and Trump would happily create a road for trans and queer folks to be imprisoned if not worse.

Which is I'm sure why JKR has been photographed and interacting with multiple members from The Heritage Foundation, people whove spoken for them, and people who attended theyre meetings. She even enjoyed watching Magdalen, who who she credits for becoming a TERF.

But do you know who Magdalen is? Or what else she was saying? What about any of the other people in the photo? Do you know the scope of what JKR was internalizing and how bad it was? Do you know she has ties to conservative anti-abortion groups?

Do you know what The Heritage Foundation? Probably not and they're the worst so let me tell you why it's such a huge red flag for her and other so-called TERFs and radfems to be associated with them.

Because I can tell you right now she heard a lot of things from those people and there is no fucking way in hell that it was just about queer people or just some sex-specific concerns. And it wasn't just passive bigotry.

Anyone who doesn't conform to the idea of a white, straight nuclear family (re: single mothers, leftists, immigrants, gay couples, etc) is made out to be an enemy of the state.

Anyone they can justify as a "national threat." Yes, they call us all a national threat on their site, their book, and the pamphlets they pass out to politicians. The details are listed on their website including the Mandate For Leadership which is their instruction guide for the next president.

I'm not exaggerating when I say it calls for genocide, prison camps, and eugenic cleansing.

Several people in that photo don't even support abortion, a basic women's rights that JKR claims to care about deeply.

JKR was consuming white supremacist dogma under the guise of feminism.

And she's not willing to admit or correct it which is where the problem lies. She won't even admit to herself that she was fooled or that it's bad or hypocritical.

My concern is that she is not the only person who's fallen for it and there are more everyday.

So it's very important to me y'all learn how to filter out what Actual Feminism is in this age where literal fascism is attempting to take its place.

Firstly,

Real, actual feminism will be welcoming to EVERYONE

Because the patriarchy doesn't only affect women or cis people or white women and it's an insult to every previous feminist icon to say otherwise.

Feminists have been fighting for decades to unite people under the concept that Patriarchy is a system that will be brought down with allyship and solidarity.

They've been fighting so hard and so long to prove that everyone deserves the same rights as men.

That women are just as capable as men and shouldn't be stopped from entering fields of study and sports dominated by men. They've been fighting to prove that women are just as capable and smart as any man is, that men would benefit from it dismantling patriarchy too.

Women fought side by side with the queer community to get Roe v Wade passed in 1973. You know why? Because despite what radfems and TERFs will tell you trans women benefit from protecting and standing up for bodily autonomy.

Do not let bigots tear drive a wedge between two groups that experience gender based oppression and would benefit from the same exact rights.

We have changed history together and they're terrified we'll do it again.

A screenshot from the largest feminist organization active right now, The National Organization of Women.

Notice how the T is included. They even posted this video two years ago when LGBT and specifically trans rights started really coming under attack in 2022.

Trans women are women.

Trans men are men.

ALL women deserve rights.

Every gender deserves equality and fairness.

And feminism is for all of us or it is for none of us.

Because nobody deserves to be treated the way patriarchy treats us.

#feminism #feminist #equality #gender #trans rights are womens rights are human rights #trans rights #womens rights #human rights #intersectional feminism #solidarity #leftist

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veritasangel · 3 months

Text

Picture This

ft. Gojo Satoru

⋆ ˚｡⋆ fem pov ୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw content {mdni}

↣ fingering, oral (receiving), provocative photos, brief mention of recording. non curse au

wc: 969

Photographer! Gojo is such a flirt, he can’t help it. He's a bit of an arrogant sleaze but you can't help but love him, ego and all.

And when you, his sweet and beloved friend ask him for some photos, of course he agrees.

“So what are we doing? Headshots for your new job or something?” He asks casually.

“Um, actually I was thinking of a boudoir shoot.”

His surprise is evident by the sputtering of his drink, almost choking on his coffee. His head lifts as he looks at you in disbelief. “Sorry- What did you just say?”

“...Boudoir shoot.”

“Okay- So I’m not imagining those words coming out of your mouth then, yeah?” He quips, clearing his throat as he raises his eyebrows slightly, “...Who are they for?”

“That’s not important.”

“Right.” He places the coffee mug down on his kitchen counter, “Out of photographer mode then. Friend to friend, who are these for?”

“Just myself.” You mumble, silently regretting asking him now.

“For yourself? Since when did you want photos like that?” He asks, incredulously.

“I don’t know, I just thought it might be a confidence boost.”

He pretends to consider your request but he already knows he’s gonna agree, especially when he can feel himself harden at just the thought.

°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。

Pushing his crude thoughts aside, he truly is a great photographer and takes his craft seriously.

You change into a few risqué pieces and he makes sure everything is perfect from lighting and angles to placements and positioning. He takes quite a few photos, showing you some every now and then and sharing his genuine thoughts.

But he could only stay professional for so long, especially when he’d pictured you like this more times than he's proud of, with only his hand to satiate him.

“Maybe you could pull your strap down a little.” He bites his lip in concentration, “Like this-” he leans in to gently tug your bra strap down so it’s off your shoulder.

He changes your position until he’s pleased with it and turns his focus back to the camera, looking at you through the lens, “You’ll have to let me keep some of these for my personal collection…You know, just so I can admire my work.” He teases and you roll your eyes at his unashamed forwardness.

“Stop being a perv.” You laugh as the two of you continue the shoot and as time goes on, the pictures become more and more provocative. He swears it’s all appropriate, whatever makes the photos shine, he claims.

And it's definitely still professional when he tugs your panties to the side, index finger slipping through your folds ever so slightly. His free hand still adjusting the camera that’s on the bed.

“I’m giving you a free photoshoot here, might as well get as much out of it as you can. I’m not a cheap hire.” He teases as you hear the shutter of the camera, the vulnerability causing a light shiver to cross your skin. You know damn well he’s lying through his teeth, but you can’t bring yourself to complain when he leans closer, stubble tickling your skin as he begins to suck on your clit.

“Toru- I, fuck-”

He grins, as he licks along your slit, two fingers pushing inside you as he goes down on you. It’s messy, sloppy, like he’s been craving the taste of you for years and you’d laugh at the desperation if his tongue and fingers weren’t causing your brain to almost short circuit.

He pulls back momentarily as he tugs at your panties, waiting for you to lift your hips so he can pull them off you completely. Tossing them to the side before his hand resumes its position, with him hovering above you to pull you in for a kiss.

“Bein’ nice enough to give you a free shoot, it’s only fair that I get something out of it, no?” he drawls as he bites your lip hard enough to draw blood, causing you to moan softly, a sound that he swallows as he kisses you, tongue meeting yours.

Much to your despair, he pulls back, trailing kisses along your jaw and down your neck as he continues, “You know, I’ve always found that photos can be misleading." he nibbles on your neck, before his tongue smooths it over, Sometimes it takes a video to truly capture the raw emotion.”

You tilt your head back, allowing him more access, “In your dreams.” you manage to whisper breathlessly.

He smirks, fingers pumping faster inside you and revelling in the noises it causes you to make. “It was worth a shot, no pun intended.” he jokes.

The camera, forgotten for the moment, lay discarded on the bed as Satoru focused on pleasing you, his cherished muse, feeling the warm slick of your arousal coating his fingers as your hips bucked up into his hand, wanting to be as close to him as possible.

His thumb dexterously circled your clit, finding that sweet spot that sent jolts of pleasure through your body. His other fingers remained deep inside you, curling right against your g-spot as he quickened his movements.

You felt the familiar tightening in your core, your body convulsing as you reached your climax, the pleasure radiating out from your core as you cried out his name.

Satoru continued to pleasure you until the shudders subsided. He leaned in to gently kiss your forehead as he pulled his fingers out of your core, pressing them to your lips as he waited for you to open. A low groan escaping him as you took his fingers into your mouth, your eyes remaining on his.

He chuckled at the shakiness of your legs as he pulled his fingers out of your mouth, gently caressing your thigh with them, “I suppose my photographic memory will have to suffice.”

↣ this was supposed to be a proper piece but I got lazy...

↣ this was also originally written for jean kirstein so if it's ooc... :/

༄ jjk m.list

#satoru gojo #gojo smut #gojo x reader #jjk drabbles #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk oneshot #༄ eri writes

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kurishiri · 3 months

Text

01 . . . the past records ˗ˏˋ🍎🪞´ˎ˗

— this translation may not be 100% accurate or may contain creative liberties. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost or claim these as your own!

— cw: mentions of perversion toward a child, mentions of alcohol, poison.

This is a story from a little before a certain little robin had wandered into the dark night——

Liam: Hey, Al, what’re you looking at? Photos?

Alfons: Indeed, from when Lord Elbie was little. I found it while looking around his room for items of monetary value, out of necessity.

Liam: Waow, look at that angel.

Within the album Alfons had open, there were many photos of Elbert.

Alfons: This was from the time a photographer had come in — uninvited — to the Greetia estate, saying that he wanted to capture Elbie in a photo.

A: He was not allowed to make a single movement, so he was so stiff. He was quite miserable back then.

A: And this is a picture from when he was ten years old.

A: ‘We must have him wear cute clothes while he is still this cute,’ was what some perverted ladies had said before making him wear a dress.

A: That said, I can’t deny that he certainly was cute back then.

Liam: The fact you know all this means you were with Lord Elbie at the time, right?

Alfons: Yes, more or less.

Liam: Hm? But wait a minute, I see there are a lot of pictures of Lord Elbie, but there are none of you in this album.

Alfons: Yes, well, I can’t say I am very fond of photos.

A: Besides that, the photographers had no complaints as long as they could take pictures of Elbert.

A: Meanwhile, I was sulking and pouting while playing with cats in the corner.

Liam: Ahah, so even you had your cute points too, huh, Al.

Alfons: How rude. Why, I’ll have you know that I’m breaking my cuteness record every second, as we speak.

Liam: Even so, it’s kind of strange. Why are you with Lord Elbie, Al?

Alfons: You seem to have a penchant for asking things like this out of the blue, don’t you?

Liam: I mean... it seems to me like Lord Elbie wouldn’t be able to live if you weren’t there with him.

L: But, you don’t seem like the type to stick to one place, or with one person, for a long time, so.

Alfons: I expected nothing less of you, Liam! You understand me so well, I feel I am about to cry from emotion. Indeed, the tears are about to flow.

Liam: Geez, I wasn’t done talking yet!

L: Anyways, I was thinking, since you’re normally like this, there must be some reason you’ve stuck to Lord Elbie’s side for so long now or something.

Alfons: ...There is no deep reason behind it.

A: But, if I had to give a reason, it would probably be that I had left whether I should leave or stay by his side up to fate, and as a result, it had ended up dragging out... [1]

Liam: You left it to fate?

Roger: Oh, you’re talking about that crazy game you played with Elbie whenever, aren’t you?

Roger had shown up suddenly, grabbing a bottle of liquor from the shelf as he chipped into the conversation.

Liam: Eh, you know about it, Roger!?

Roger: Wait, you didn’t?

Liam: Huuuh, please don’t tell me I’m the only one?

Roger: Ellis and Jude might not know, seeing as they’ve joined Crown recently.

Liam: Oh, thank goodness I’m not the only one.

Alfons: I was having the most amusing conversation with Liam, until just now.

Roger: Good for you, let me join in then.

Liam: So? What’s this about a game?

Alfons: It’s a game called Dead or Alive.

Liam: Dead or... huh? That name is really disturbing.

Alfons: Hehe, you say that, Liam, but your eyes are sparkling.

Liam: Come on, I know you know that I’m ‘very curious’ and you were leading me on.

Alfons: ——It was a game we played once, every year.

A: Would I continue to stay by Lord Elbie’s side? Or——would I disappear?

Liam: How...?

Alfons: Let’s see now... The very first game we played, it was simply on a whim.

—— Flashback ——

This was right after I was taken in by the Greetia family.

Lord Elbert had just lost his father, and so he was very unstable.

Just, as Liam had said, I preferred not to step into the lives of others,

and so, one day, I thought about possibly leaving this manor.

However, I was still young at the time, and my good heart would not approve of me leaving him alone. And so, I decided to make a certain bet.

Alfons: Lord Elbeeert, I brewed some tea, wanna have some?

Elbert: ...Thanks, Alfons. ...But, you don’t need to call me ‘lord.’

Alfons: But that butler of yours—sorry, I meant the butler who serves you [2] keeps pestering me to call you ‘lord.’

Elbert: Then, feel free to call me whatever you want when he’s not here.

Alfons: Why though?

Elbert: Because... you are the first friend... I ever had.

Alfons: ...Hmm.

A: Anyway, back to the tea.

A: Which one do you want?

—— End flashback ——

Liam: So, that was what started the games? I don’t think I see the ‘Dead or Alive’ part...?

Alfons: Well, you see, one of the cups was a completely ordinary cup of darjeeling tea.

A: But the other cup of tea had a poison that could send you straight to the afterworld with naught but a single sip!

first. next →

full masterlist 🍎🪞

NOTES:

[1] not completely sure what this means, to be honest... I kind of took a stab at it from context clues though. The original line was [ずるずると来てしまった] (zuru zuru to kite shimatta). I assume he meant that it kind of “dragged out” (ずるずる). But, if anyone wants to correct me if I’m completely wrong, then I appreciate any feedback!

[2] so Alfons says [お前] (omae) at first, which is like a casual or direct way of saying “you” to Elbert, but then he corrects himself to [貴方] (anata), which is like a polite way to say the same thing. It’s hard to translate directly into English, I feel like, but I tried to convey the tone. In case it didn’t come through at all, this is the explanation!

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josephquinnswhore · 1 year

Note

hi honey! i discovered your blog not too long ago and my love your writing is so amazing i actually can't get enough!

i had a request if your taking them? it would be a dad!pedro pascal x wife!reader. and i've been thinking about this heavy since he was at the oscar's

could you do like a super fluff about everyone's reactions if he was the one to win an oscar for best actor?

hope you have a wonderful day my love! 💝

Cause for Celebration - pedro pascal x female reader

Summary: Pedro is nervous about being nominated for his first Oscar Award.

Word Count: 1.9k

Note: This is the best frigging idea I’ve ever seen. I love this and I hope it lives up to your expectations!! 🤍 This is my first request I’m crying so many tears right now! Thank you anon I LOVE you. May you pillow always be cold on both sides. Please let me know if you like it 🫶🏼🫶🏼

Your fingers seem to have a conscious of their own, mindlessly twisting your wedding ring around your finger to stop your hands from jittering as you were led to the paparazzi.

“Pedro! Pedro over here!” The flash of white light was blinding, the screaming and calling of paparazzi as they’re desperately attempting to gain your attention, you smile politely as you stand next to Pedro, changing your pose to his arm around your back and your hand resting on his chest. “Pedrito! I love you!” A fan screamed from next to the photographers, the one confession was enough for Pedro to thank the photographers, entwine your hands and make a beeline straight for his fans, as you approach the fans are a mess, crying and screaming as Pedro signs their items, even taking some selfies with fans. “Y/n can we please get a photo! We love you!” Your heart skipped, smiling at how sweet his fans were and you accepted graciously, “of course sweetheart!” You bare the biggest grin and lean into her as she cries, ignoring the metal barrier that presses into your ribs. “Thank you so much! Good luck Pedro!” You both thank them and move on to the interview the woman, you knew well from Pedro’s past interviews and long mop of auburn hair. Pedro’s warm hand met your back, hands grazing on the sequinned gold dress that clung to your body graciously.

“Pedro it’s so good to see you again, this is your wife right?” Pedro let out a small laugh, turning his body towards you in an attempt to include you. “Yes, this is my beautiful wife, how couldn’t I bring her? She’s my number one supporter.” The redness that spreads along your cheeks heats your face, adding to the blush from your make up. You clasp your hands together and let out an excited huff of air, “you’ve done so incredibly this year honey, you deserve this Oscar. I’ll run up to the stage and snatch it if you don’t win!” Your giggles are harmonised by Pedro’s and Amelia’s laugh. “Will you be on the dance floor with Pedro at the after party this evening?” Your hand tentatively rubs down Pedro’s arm, shaking the nerves off you, “of course how could I not? I cant have another beautiful woman claiming my man!” Pedro scoffs playfully, “you know I only have eyes for you cariño.” Amelia sighs adoringly at the two of you, “well that confirms it folks! Pedro and y/n are the hottest couple on the red carpet tonight!” She turns away from the camera her co worker held and back to you, “good luck tonight, see you two next time!”

Both saying your goodbyes, Pedro’s assistant led you past a long line of celebrities, waiting to be let in, your breath hitched, “oh my god you’re skipping past Andrew Garfield!” Pedro slips his hand into yours, “must be getting important baby,” he jokes, knowing of your little crush on Andrew, and you’re led straight into the venue. “You’re the most important to me baby- whoa,” you gasp in awe, interrupting yourself. The room was ridiculously huge, hundreds of seats in rows you couldn’t count, the stage was empty, other than the stand and a large screen above the stage, red curtains framed the outside.

“I can’t believe this is real, I mean I can. You deserve this more than anyone, I’m just so proud of you.” Celebrities fill the hundreds of seats, the ones near you being filled with A-List celebrities you’d crushed on when you were younger. “Thank you baby.” He presses a soft kiss to your temple, moving his arm around to rest on the back of your chair, you lean into him as the ceremony begins, lights dimming slightly as the spotlights shone bright on the presenters.

Unsurprisingly, Michelle Yeoh won best actress. She was a talented actor, her role as Evelyn in ‘everything everywhere all at once’ was unmatched. The mix of sci-fi and adventure had you on the edge of your seat and was a brilliantly produced movie. Her speech was just as brilliant, her sense of humour and gratitude was touching, and you felt nothing but happiness for her as she thanked her family, shaking the hands of presenters, Harrison Ford and Kate Hudson who clapped in celebration for her.

“We would like to start off with a massive thank you to everyone who joins us tonight, this has been a massive year of acting and the most incredible. We are excited to announce that Halle Berry and Elizabeth Olsen will be presenting the next award and last of the night.” Harrison Ford and Kate Hudson clap to themselves as they introduce two of your idols, barely containing your excitement you clap steadily, Pedro laughing at your excitement.

“This is it baby, this is yours.” You grip his hand encouragingly. “We are happy to present this years best actor, with some incredible nominees including; Austin Butler for his role in Elvis”, a montage of the Elvis movie flashes on the large screen tv. “Brandon Fraser for his role in The Whale,” cheer erupts through the stadium, Brandon was special to a lot of people, no doubt he would win if Pedro didn’t. “Colin Farrell for his role in ‘The Banshees of Inisherin, and what an interesting movie that was.” You find yourself jittering, Pedro’s warmth leaving your hand as he straightens his jacket, a nervous twitch of his. “Last but not least, Pedro Pascal for his spectacular role of Joel Miller in The Last of Us game rendition.” Your eyes focus on the screen, your husband portraying Joel Miller, your hand running down his suit pant on his thigh. “I’m here baby, we got this.” You whisper, reassuring the anxiety both of you felt.

The room cheered for Pedro, your heart soars with pride as you cheer along. “Alright alright let’s get to it.” The crowd shushes, the rooms tension increased tenfold. The fumbling of the envelope could be heard through the microphone, the crackling of the paper as it opened and the two women looked at each other with a big smile on their face. “The winner for the 2023 Best Actor award is,” you’re on the edge of your seat and Pedro is still, anxiety clawing at him. “Pedro Pascal!” They exclaim in unison. Your jaw hits the floor, pride and excitement becoming too much, the whole room cheered for him, he was unmoving in his seat, in shock that he actually won. You pull his arm upward, a big grin on your face as he stands, you stand with him and you don’t miss the loving look in his eyes, he kisses you softly, laughing as he pulls away, moving toward the stage. You and your peers are clapping, your tears welling on your lash line threatened to ruin your perfectly applied make up. Pedro shakes Halle and Elizabeth’s hands, taking the Oscar in his hands and cradles it, as if it were made of glass. “I don’t even know what to say, I was certain I wouldn’t win so I haven’t prepared much of a speech.” The confession earned him a chuckle from the crowd, yourself included at his truth. “I just, want to thank my family, my mother for guiding me my sisters and nephews for their support. Everyone on my team and the guys at Naughty Dog for giving me this life-changing opportunity. I want to thank the other nominees, especially Brandon Frasier, your journey and story has touched us all and we love you man.” The room erupts in cheer, whistling clapping and yelling echo in agreement. “Lastly and most importantly, I want to thank my beautiful wife, for always believing in me, pushing me to be a better man. For loving me and for being selfless, for putting up with a lifestyle she knew nothing about. I want to thank her especially for making me a father to our beautiful daughter Eméile, and our beautiful son on the way!” Your cheeks are burning ferociously as the crowd gasps and turns to you, seeing you confirm the statement with your hands protectively grasping your stomach, a small bump that would’ve been otherwise noticeable, was now noticeable.

Past the point of caring about your make up, tears are falling down your cheeks, a sob choking you up as it gets stuck in your throat, you blow him a kiss as he finalises his speech with a repetition of his wedding vows. “Thank you for saving me, I wouldn’t be here without you cariño.” You were sobbing, clapping for your husband as your chest expands to make more room for your heart that is so full of love. He pulls you into a bear hug as he embraces you, his own tears of happiness falling on to your bare shoulder. The event coming to an end as they thank everyone for their presence. “With that ladies and gentlemen, we want to thank you all for joining us tonight. Please feel free to stick around for the after party to celebrate!”

Pedro pulls away from you, shaking the hands of his peers as they congratulate him, inviting him to party with them early into the morning, in which he declines. “No thank you, me and my beautiful wife are going to spend our time celebrating as a family, you all have a wonderful evening!”

“Dad you won! I knew you would! I’m so proud of you!” Your daughter Eméile exclaims excitedly as she sees the golden figure of his Oscar. She buries her face in his suit-clad chest and sighs. “You’re like, the coolest dad ever now. You know that right?” Pedro laughs and ruffles your daughters hair. “Uh I would hope so Em!” She smiles as she hugs you, gently approaching as she doesn’t want to hurt the baby, even if you assure her a hundred times it’s fine. “I’m so proud of you too ma.” You bite your lip to stop it’s wobble, “thank you baby. I’m proud of you too. I’m darn proud of us all!” You admit with a huff. “Why don’t we watch a movie with dinner and popcorn to wind down?” You and Em shoot each other a look and grin, Pedro raises an eyebrow at your scheming. “I vote ‘We can be Heroes’.” You snort as you purse your lips, “Agreed. Two votes babe you’re outnumbered.” You confirm with a smirk on your lips.

Pedro sighs, “alright, I’ll order takeout. Chinese?” There was no objection as you both murmur in agreement taking seat on the lounge.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep outta you two about how cringe this movie is.” You and Eméile both burst out laughing, “but dad it is kinda cringe.” Pedro sighs as he sits with the popcorn, the smell wafting into your nose as you salivating as your hand dives into the oversized bowl of steaming buttered popcorn as the credits roll in. “You’re 16, don’t you wanna watch like, Wednesday or something?” Em scoffs, “no, I wanna watch this,” she points to the tv and turns to her dad, “and since when did my age have anything to do with my interests?” You raise your eyebrows at Pedro and he gives you a look of confusion, shaking his head. “Teenagers are so confusing.” He mumbles to himself as you all settle into the couch, crunching on the popcorn simultaneously as you cuddle up to each other as you wait for your Chinese takeout to arrive.

What in the world did you ever feel nervous for? You think as you watch the movie on the screen, the effects making you laugh as you watch Pedro-Marcus fly through the sky on the tv screen.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x fem reader #Pedro pascal rpf #Pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal at the oscars #dad Pedro pascal #dad x Pedro

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laurolive · 4 months

Text

And They Said It Wouldn’t Work

Came across this lovely photo of Linda on the cover of the April 30, 1977, issue of the U.K. weekly Woman. Her interview is titled “All you Need is Love, and a Beatle called Paul: Linda McCartney's story” by Bonnie Estridge (p. 28).

That’s all the info I have since the story is not reproduced anywhere online that I can see (though it’s obtainable from other sources).

______________________________________

Turning my attention to the cover text, when “they” said the marriage wouldn’t work, “they” were not without just cause, IMO. Circumstances pointed to a relationship destined for failure.

______________________________________

McCartney juggled multiple girlfriends simultaneously and had never practiced commitment in his adult life. Linda counted among her lovers many of the rock musicians she photographed. McCartney pursued and slept with Linda (among others) while engaged to someone else (Jane Asher).

So here we have a courtship, begun in deceit and sneaking around, between two people who still appeared to be enjoying the free love era. “If he’ll cheat WITH you, he’ll cheat ON you” goes the adage. The guy couldn’t even stay faithful to his fiancée. Is this the behaviour of a future responsible family man?

Beatles biographer Hunter Davies didn’t think the marriage would last [link]. John Lennon gave it two years [link]. The civil wedding seemed to be arranged in a rush with a bride who was three months’ pregnant. The night before the big day, the couple had such a huge argument they nearly canceled the ceremony [link]. No wonder the marriage was given such poor prospects.

______________________________________

Yet it became rock music’s most famous love affair and its most enduring monogamous union. HOW? For one, it goes to show that it’s easy to make predictions based on superficial knowledge.

Observers saw a womanizing Beatle rock star who would never settle down with one woman. It turns out McCartney had deeper layers than met the eye, and they meshed with Linda’s. We just didn’t know his REAL values in life until he talked about them.

______________________________________

Some men are womanizers and stay womanizers. That’s who they are deep down inside. Monogamy has no appeal.

Some men are womanizers when young. It’s an experience to try, not a routine to live by. I think Paul falls into this category. Deep inside, he was a family man. Going by his interviews, where he often speaks tenderly of Linda and rhapsodizes about fatherhood, one can sense that he believed in romantic love. He wanted a soulmate; he wanted children. He matured, and his ingrained values came to the forefront.

He didn’t become husband material right off the bat. It was a process, probably a difficult one given his status. When he played the field in the later 60s, perhaps it was not totally to have fun, but also to seek out girlfriends with whom he had a real connection. These he called his “serious relationships” [link]. Some of those girlfriends claimed he wanted to marry them [link1, link2]; yet even when he did get engaged, he seemed to be unsure and still searching. (I guess he didn’t consider it cheating if he wasn’t married.) Recalling those days for the 2001 documentary Wingspan, McCartney tells his interviewer (who is also his daughter Mary) that it was time to get serious; and he especially felt that way with her mother. He didn’t want to remain a bachelor playboy all his life.

______________________________________

And so he got serious. Once he committed, he was husband and father all the way.

“I had my wild life,” he declared in a 1974 interview [New York News magazine: Just an Old-Fashioned Beatle, April 7, 1974]. “But I told Linda everything about that and all the rest. I have no secrets from Linda. I had my time, in my time. But I am much happier now. This new life means more to me.”

______________________________________

He expressed similar sentiments in other interviews over the years, such as TV interview with Barbara Howar, Aug. 23, 1986 and The Guardian: After Linda by Simon Hattenstone, Sept. 11, 2000, just to name two.

________________________________________

#paul mccartney #linda mccartney #paul and linda #paul and linda romantic #paul and linda forever #paul and linda mccartney #lovely linda #the beatles wives #beatles wives #beatles girls #linda eastman mccartney #linda louise mccartney

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lesbiankimdahyun · 1 year

Text

new match

1.1K words

CW: A/B/O dynamics, sorry we're really playing The Long Game here

[A!Mina x O!Reader]

As a backup dancer in the kpop industry, you were constantly making connections with every music video, award show, and world tour you danced in. Other dancers became your friends easily, but idols? At best, some became casual acquaintances of yours. For idols you got to know for longer periods of time, like during tours, you sometimes came away with their personal number stored in your phone’s contact list.

But you never texted them. The thought felt embarrassing to you, too vulnerable. Besides, all of the idols who had given you their number so far were Omegas like you. Maybe you’d act on it if you had an Alpha’s number, but you didn’t, and you were at peace with that.

Until one day, your friend Somi approached you at the end of group practice with a new soloist idol.

“Hey,” she said, tugging at your dance bag to get you to hold back. “Have you seen this?”

She held out her phone open and you took it, peering at the rectangle-shaped screen. At first glance, it looked like someone’s dating profile. Except…

The someone was you. All of the photos were of you. There was no written profile besides your name and age. The words “PROFILE UNCLAIMED/INACTIVE” were just below your name.

“What? What is this?” you said, nearly throwing her phone back at her. “That’s me, what the fuck!”

Somi winced, taking her phone back quickly. “I had a feeling you didn’t know.”

“Know about what? What is that?” you asked, now wondering whether you should ask to see it again. “Oh my god, is my identity being st–”

“It’s an app,” Somi said quickly, lowering her voice as a few more dancers scurried by you. “Calm down, it’s just–” she hesitated. “It’s…basically like Tinder, but almost exclusively for idol Alphas and Omegas.”

Your eyes widened. “Idols? But then how am I on there?”

“I said almost,” Somi said, emphasizing the word. “If you’re known or noticed by other idols, sometimes they add outsiders they think are hot, like hair and makeup artists, music photographers or dancers.”

You stared at Somi. You watched as she ran a few of her fingers through her bangs and combed through them, as if that offered some sort of additional explanation.

“How do you know all of this?” you asked, crossing your arms. “Are– are you on there?”

Somi blushed. “I– not right now,” the other Omega said. “I just finished my heat so I’m kind of taking a break.”

Your brain was racing a million miles a minute to piece together what she was telling you.

“So you’ve used it? You have a profile?” Your questions came as quickly as you could say them. “Let me see your profile! How does it work? Idols? Who have you matched with?”

Seeing now that you were less upset and more intrigued, Somi finally smiled. “Slow down, Y/N! I’ll tell you everything on the walk to the train. That account is yours if you want it.”

After getting instructions from Somi on how to claim your profile and create login credentials for yourself, you came home. You threw your phone on your bed and then jumped in after it. Somi told you you’d have to verify your identity if you claimed your profile. You hated how eager you were to get up and go back out into your apartment to grab your bag. You rooted around for your ID, rolling your eyes at yourself. It’s not like you were going to have the kind of luck Somi told you she’d had. What if she was secretly lying and there weren’t actually any attractive Alphas on there?

ID in hand now, you moved to your kitchen. You set your phone and ID down on the counter while you grabbed a bottle of red and a glass.

After taking a long sip, curiosity got the best of you and you finally unlocked your phone. You downloaded the app and followed the prompts on your screen to claim your profile. It required you to upload photographs of your ID and submit a selfie to verify your identity. You also signed a severe privacy agreement.

This better be worth it, you thought.

A few minutes later, you were into your new account and you quickly made some adjustments to your profile. You swapped out some of the photos of yourself for ones you liked better and added a short bio. An ‘O’ appeared on your profile after your name and age.

Buzzing with excitement, you tapped your way back to the home screen quickly. Now you finally could browse and see which Alphas awaited you, and which non-idols had been deemed well known enough to be included. As you started swiping through, you couldn’t believe it. There were more Alpha profiles than you thought there would be.

Taking a breath, you slowly and meticulously started swiping through profiles, reading every line of their bios, taking in each photo. Some of the names and faces you saw made your eyebrows lift in surprise. (G)I-DLE’s Yuqi, Red Velvet’s Seulgi, Dreamcatcher’s Siyeon, JiU and Dami, even MAMAMOO’s Hwasa.

The idea of not matching with some of the Alphas you saw was devastating, but matching with them was even scarier to think about.

Not matching with Fromis_9’s Saerom almost shattered your confidence, and not getting a single match with any of the LOONA members you saw made you debate deleting the app right then and there. But then you remembered your profile had only just gone live, so you went on with your night to give yourself some time to be swiped on.

You ate and then showered. When you came back to your room to get dressed, you noticed a new notification on your phone. Your first match!

Your eyes went wide when you saw who it was. (G)I-DLE’s Soyeon.

A wave of excited warmth rushed over you. You flicked through her photos, admiring the pretty Alpha. You then frowned for a moment, remembering one of the app’s antiquated traditional rules. Alphas had the first move– Omegas couldn’t send a message first.

You sat there for a few moments, as if willing a notification to come through, but your phone stayed motionless in your hand. You set your phone down, ready to move onto doing something else. It wasn’t worth waiting around to see if a message came through.

After washing your dishes and helping yourself to a second glass of wine, you settled in on your couch to read for a bit. Just as you were about to pick up where you left off, your phone vibrated.

Soyeon.

#twice imagines #twice a/b/o #a!mina #mina x fem!reader #alpha!mina #g!p twice

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maybe-arts · 6 months

Text

ATTENTION KIRBLR

YOU ARE CORDIALLY INVITED TO

KIRBY'S BIRTHDAY PARTY!

Remember the big collab we've done last year over at Far-Flung Starlight Heroes server? Well, this year we're doing it again!!! And guess what?

You are encouraged to participate too!

What is required from me?

Not much - just pick a single character from Kirby's canon and draw them celebrating Kirby's birthday! The theme this year is "photographs": everyone at Kirby's birthday party are taking a BIIIIIIG group photo with him, and we're trying to make this (probably) the biggest group photo of all Kirby's friends (and some enemies)!

The only thing I ask is that you don't take characters that have already been claimed. I'm intending this to work on "no dupes" and "first come first serve" basis, but I do believe there's a plenty of friendly faces to pick from!

Right now we would really like to have:

Rick

Kine

Nago

Gooey

Flamberge

Pitch

Elline

Claycia

Can I pick multiple characters?

Yes, you can! In fact, there's more than just a drawing of a single character that you can add: the end goal is to make it into a scrapbook-worth page, so any and all decorations, birthday wishes or additional party photos with your chosen characters are welcome!

Keep in mind, however, that additional characters (if they're separate from your main character) and any extra elements are optional. You're more than welcome to pick them, but only if you're sure you can make it all before deadline.

Are the characters from anime/novels/manga allowed?

Yes, they are! I may have to ask for the character's origin if I'm not familiar with them (ESPECIALLY if it's a novel original, I have not read all of them), but you're free to pick as well known or obscure as you'd like. (I know some people on the server are very interested in adding GSA members to the photo...)

In fact, these are who we'd really like to have from anime:

Tuff

Fololo & Falala

Sir Ebrum

Lady Like

Escargoon

Deadline? What's the deadline?

The deadline for submitting your drawings is April 25th. (You can get in some last-second additions up till April 27th, as I'm free that day, but I will be very nervous.)

There's no deadline for signing up, however, so as long as you're ABSOLUTELY SURE you can whip up something good in a matter of couple of hours, you may add your character up till the dawn of last day, haha! (You will sure give me a surprise with that one.)

Okay, but what if all the characters I know/want are already picked?

I know, with FCFS and how many of characters are beloved, this is bound to happen. Not to worry tho!

I have compiled a list of notable characters in the series with references of where they're from and if they have or have not been claimed. You can easily see, which ones are still up for grabs!

If nothing really catches your eye, you can always try and discuss with people who have taken additional characters to see if they're willing to give away, trade or even collab with you to make your characters interact on the group photo! (Trust me, most of the time they will cooperate, so don't hesitate to reach out!

(Keep in mind, however, that the list ISN'T a strict directive on which characters are allowed or needed to be taken. If you have someone on your mind that I've neglected to put in, you're more than welcome to pick them!)

Alright, I'm in. How do I send my submissions?

Simple! I'm working via Google Sheets this time (mostly bc I don't know how Google Forms work and also so people more easily see which characters are taken), so all you need to do is to check out this little handy-dandy link:

On the first sheet you'll see, there's more information on this collab and requirements, and also a list of people who'd already signed up!

To properly sign up, you'd need to list:

Your nickname (so I'd know how to address to you)

Your Discord username (for communication)

Your Tumblr and/or Bluesky username (for crediting once the finished collab is posted, if you don't have either, Twitter/Instagram/other social media of choice is also fine, just know that the result will be posted only on Twitter and Bluesky)

The character(s) of your choosing (to properly claim them)

Rough placement on the canvas (for me to figure out where to put you, maybe you want your character to hold Kirby, or high-five someone else, or discreetly put up horns to someone when they're not looking!)

Submission download link (for me to download your finished submission and add it to the canvas)

Notes (anything you'd think I'd like/need to know about your choice!)

I'm working in Clip Studio Paint, so if you do to, the easiest option would be to upload your cleaned up and flattened work as .clip file. If your art program of choice is different (like Krita, IbisPaint or PaintTool SAI, for example), you can export your work as either .psd or transparent .png. Where to upload your submission is up to you, Google Drive works in a pinch tho.

But wait! How will people know I've participated in this??

That's exactly what I need your usernames for! As I'm posting this on Tumblr mainly, I'm going to @ you as a method of crediting your submissions (specifically pointing out which part you worked on!). After the finished work is posted, you're free to post your individual submissions - either as a reblog of collab or separate post.

Great! Anything else?

One last moment - the main part of communication about this collab happens over here at Far-Flung Starlight Heroes server. (Don't worry, I have permission to promote it.)

It's a chill, fun Kirby-themed server, open to fans of games, anime and novels alike. Are you an artist? Great! Are you a writer? Even better! Do you want to ramble about Lore Implications or just document your 10th 100% completion? Go right ahead! Do you just want to gush about your OCs? People here would LOVE to hear about your little blorbos from your head.

That's it from me! See you around at Kirby's Birthday Party!

#kirby #kirby series #kirby fandom #kirby 32nd anniversary #kirby birthday collab #this will be so much fun trust me #it was incredibly fun last yeah and it'll be even more fun this year #i've opened signing ups and not even 12 hours later we've had 28 people claiming about 35 characters #this is gonna be Juicy

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bitchapalooza · 1 month

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"Who is she?"

Zoro cracked an eye open. "Hah?" He grumbled. "You're blocking the sun, twirly brows. Move it."

Instead of receiving a remark back, Zoro got something rudely shoved in his face instead. He repelled the cook's hands away with his own. "Well? Who is she, mosshead?"

Zoro squinted his eyes, nose scrunched as he darted from the blond to the bounty poster and photograph taken back in Water 7 before their departure. Closely focusing his sleepless eyes he finally saw what the cook was talking about. He shrugged, seeing no issue in the matter.

"Franky thought it was overexposure or something when copying the film at first but then she showed up in the other photos." Zoro's gaze lazily trailed off to the railing of the Sunny, where Usopp and Luffy were fishing(but not catching a single bite—a repeat of yesterday). There an apparition sat, a girl only Zoro has been gifted to see. She relaxed on the railing next to the boys, semi translucent, an aspect about her that has always screwed with Zoro's mind, being able to see through her and all, as foggy and unclear as it is.

"You know her." Sanji boldly claimed. Zoro shut his eyes and relaxed back onto his folded arms. "She's always around you."

"Cook," The name fell from his mouth like molasses. "You implying I got a ghost girl following me around? Do you know how stupid you sound right now? Well stupider than usual..."

Sanji tsked.

'It's fine, Zoro.' The swordsman flinched as within seconds Kuina appeared in his ear. 'I think I trust these people. I don't think they would call you crazy.'

Zoro cracked one eye open to peer at the girl. The forever thirteen year old girl. Sometimes she appeared normal. Other times she had a gnarly bloody gash on her forehead. Today, though, she was normal. As healthy looking as she was before she died.

"She's here with us, isn't she?"

"Why are you so interested in the ghost girl?" Zoro grunted.

'I have a name you, ass!' Zoro ignored her outburst.

"No. She's not here. Now leave."

Kuina stamped her foot. 'Roronoa Zoro! Stop lying!'

"She's taking a ghost shit. Lose it, perv cook." He ignored the offended gasp.

"Oh shut up, moss, I know you're lying. She's here and I'm right."

Zoro shifted, his bottom feeling numb. 'Tell Sanji I wish I could eat his cooking. It looks delicious!'

Zoro rolled his eyes. He sat up and hauled himself to his feet with a grunt. "I'm not saying shit for you."

"AHA!" Sanji exclaimed a finger pointed directly at him. Luffy, Usopp, and Robin turned from their spots on the deck to the shouting chef. "I knew it! The ghost girl is here!"

'Tell him, Zoro! Tell him his food looks yummy! Dad's cooking was always so bland and boring, always something with rice. The pork cutlet he made last week was soooooo good looking, you describing it's taste made my mouth water—and I don't even have spit or an appetite anymore!'

As Kuina rambled Zoro stamped off, agitated at the attention he was suddenly getting. He just wanted a good nap in the sun, not a damn probing session.

Kuina showed up several months after she died. He had been training in the heavy rain when he saw her looking out the window, just staring. From the room that contained her sword, there she stood. For days he thought he'd just gone insane with grief and delirium, barely sleeping enough to be considered a healthy amount for a ten year old. But then one day she lashed out. Angry at her father for talking about her like that, even after she was gone. She got so mad. So so mad. In her angry state her shrine shook, vase of flowers falling, photo cracking, candle and incense blowing out. There was no wind, no earthly tremors, only a pissed off girl—Zoro believed she was real from then on. He wouldn't tell Koushirou, he just thought there was a weird isolated earthquake and didn't ask any further question. Zoro began to talk with her like normal again. While they couldn't quite train together she did give him pointers here and there, telling him how to improve his skills when before she wouldn't share anything, let the younger boy find it out himself.

'It would be nice if I could talk to people again.'

Zoro wiped the sweat from his brows with his own shirt. "You talk to me." Way too much, Zoro neglected to add.

'Other people,' Kuina clarified. 'I know I was considered a quiet kid when I was alive but sometimes it's nice to talk. It fills the silence. Makes me...'

"Feel alive again?" Kuina nodded. Zoro put the weights away and faced his friend. "Do you seriously want me to tell everyone? I mean... It's not like they'll magically be able to see or hear you."

Kuina shrugged. 'So? At least they'll know I'm here.'

Good point.

"Fine," He sighed, easily swayed, picking the weights back up for another round. "Later then. After dinner. But I'm not making it a whole thing! I'll just say you're here and get on with it!"

Kuina wasn't listening anymore. She was excitedly rambling, loudly fantasizing about the possibility of socializing with someone other than the grumpy sourpuss that is Zoro.

He could sense the soft hum of Wado Ichimonji, leaning up against the crows nest wall, gleeful just like the spirit attached.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #one piece au #roronoa zoro #shimotsuki kuina #ghost kuina au #idk its slow at work rn lmao #felt like writing something small

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maximoffswriter · 11 months

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Not My Lover.

a/n: Miss me?

warnings: idk, it's very very soft though.

pairing: Taylor Swift x sister!reader

genre: fluff

summary: paparazzi saw you with Taylor, and assumed you were dating.

disclaimer: ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE, SO PLEASE BARE WITH ME

you do NOT have the right/permission to copy, steal, or repost this and claim my work as your own.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

A lot of Taylor's fans were convinced you to were dating. I mean, who wouldn't, with the sweet touches, kisses on foreheads, and holding hands in public. It was all too sweet to be platonic. What nobody knew is that you were her sister. You've always been hidden in the dark, since you've avoided the fame Taylor had. You didn't want to be seen with her by paparazzi, since you felt uncomfortable being seen.

Until one day, you asked Taylor to come with to the mall to buy some things for an upcoming event on your school. You needed a suit and tie for a dance number, and a dress for another upcoming event. You knew nothing about these kind of clothing since you went for comfortable, rather than stylish. It wasn't normal for you to shop for fancy clothes, and the thought of going alone overwhelmed you.

When you asked her, she made sure you were okay with the paparazzi and everything else that came with it, and when you confirmed that you were, she gladly accepted to accompany you.

The paparazzi was worse than you expected, the loud voices of the photographers, and the suffocating amount of people staring at you. It was overwhelming to say the least. Taylor's first thought was to grab your hand, and get you out of there as fast as possible. Once you outran the paparazzi, she kissed your forehead, before she began to tell you how sorry she was. You told her it was okay, and hugged her.

One hidden photographer took photos of the interaction, and their agency posted it online.

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

When you got home, tons of requests flooded your private Instagram account.. How did they find that so quickly? You ignored every single one of them. Meanwhile, Taylor's posts were flooded by comments about you. She answered not a single question.

You ran to Taylor telling her that people are sending requests on your Instagram account, and she just told you to tolerate them. She hugged you, and told you she was sorry once again.

"Taylor, it's okay, really.. but how'd they even find my account? Nobody knows me.." you say.

You checked google and searched "Taylor Swift", and then clicked on images. The first thing that popped up was a picture of you and Taylor when she kissed your forehead. "Oh, I think they know me now." You said, in a worried tone. "What do you mean?" She asked. You showed her the photo, and she was shocked. "They'll think wrong about this. I think it's best that we address that we aren't dating."

The thought of her fans assuming you were dating was disgusting. I mean, yes, you two were close, but that's just weird.

She went on Instagram and posted a story saying: "Hello everyone, I would like to address the photo of me kissing a girl on her forehead, that recently went viral. That girl my sister, I was trying to comfort her as the paparazzi was too overwhelming for her. We would like it if you respected her privacy. Thank you." She posted it, and many people were quick to apologize, replying to her story.

≻───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────≺

a/n: been gone for too long, I think I forgot how to write 😓

#maximoffswriter #taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift x fem!reader

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p1nkcanoe · 10 months

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the polaroid collection: dewdrop

this is part three of the polaroid collection, based off of 'picture this'. you can either find the masterlist here, read on ao3, or read below:

!! this one's a little intense, warnings for crying, breeding kink, aftershocks of rough sex, and a bit of subdrop !!

---

“I can’t– I can’t take any more– so full, Swiss. I’m so full, I don’t know if I–”

The air reeks of sex and sweat, cinnamon, woodsmoke, and weed. Sweetened with potent desire. Electric with the need to breed and claim. Swiss snarls, bares his teeth, and leans down to nose at the junction just below Dew’s jaw where it’s sticky and soft.

“You can take it, I know you can–I’ve seen you do it. And you want to,” he says. His voice is too even, too calm for how he’s been fucking him relentlessly for the past hour and a half. His muscles burn from the exertion and he’s far past being exhausted, but he’s not done with him yet. Not even close. His tongue darts out to taste a mark blooming on the fire ghoul’s skin. Purple and red and bubbling with blood where the multi ghoul had accidently bit him too hard with the tip of a sharp fang.

“You love this cock, don’t you? You love it when it fills you up, gets you all filthy, and stretches that tight hole wide, yeah?”

Dew whines because he knows deep in his head that Swiss is right. No matter how much his bones ache and his muscles stretch beyond their limits, he’ll always bear the pain for a little bit of heat. Especially if it’s coming from Swiss. That dick, that body, that tongue… they’re parts of him that Dew dreams about. Never sated. He’ll never get enough.

“Fuck,” the larger ghoul grunts and buries himself so deep inside of him that Dew’s jaw falls slack but the only thing that comes out is a pitiful little squeak. His hands scramble for a hold on sweaty skin and Swiss hisses, pain burning red hot into pleasure, when suddenly unglamored claws tear angry red lines across his back and into the grooves between his ribs.

“You’re so pretty, Dew,” he compliments and kisses him all over his face. “And you know it, don’t you? Prettiest ghoul in the abbey.”

He continues to fuck him with bruising punches of his hips and each one knocks the breath from his lungs and leaves him gasping for air. Even if he really wanted him to answer his question he couldn’t.

But he knows it anyway. He is the prettiest. That's how he always gets himself in these kinds of situations.

“I mean, look at yourself–” A hand detaches itself from his lithe waist to reach at a photograph and somehow the stretch pushes him deeper. Dew’s more than a little out of his mind. The way his eyes roll back into his skull is enough proof of that. Swiss holds the photo up close to his face and grins wide and full of teeth before turning it around and showing it to the other ghoul, who looks at it through unfocused and watery eyes. The colors are distorted and faint, still developing from when the flash went off only minutes prior, but the picture is there, and oh is it something. “–beautiful. Even when you’re crying on my cock.”

If the shine on his cheeks wasn’t enough to convince Swiss that he was fucking him good, the visible wetness lining his eyes and trailing down into his hairline, frozen in time in the photo forever certainly is. He’d been nearly in hysterics when the flash had gone off. Thoroughly used and pinned by his shoulders with crushing weight until the other filled him up full with his third orgasm of the never-ending night. Even though the photo was taken with arms stretched up high, it’s still so clear how much Dew wants him. And Swiss is right–he’s so pretty when he’s messy. So pretty when he’s got his knees up by his chest and his puffy hole exposed for the lens to see. So pretty when it leaks a creamy mixture of his own slick and Swiss’ cum. His thighs are covered in little nips and impressive outlines of Swiss’ entire bite. He’d nearly screamed and ripped the sheets to ruined shreds when he’d made those–nearly unhinged his jaw to sink his teeth into the flesh of his thighs–and when Swiss gives him a sudden sharp smack to the back of his thigh to reward him for the good work the noise he makes is no different. More tears well up in his eyes, thick and hot, and turn the room wavy.

“I just can’t get enough of you, baby,” Swiss starts again, placing the photo down and out of the way, and Dew knows he’s really in for it when he straightens up and shuffles his knees forward into a kneel. What he does next has the fire ghoul preparing for the worst. He grabs him by the waist and pulls him up so their hips meet again, and Dew holds onto the back of his knees just a little tighter. If he thought Swiss was relentless before, he’s about to nearly be fucked out of his mind.

“I mean I came here for one photo, but now that I’ve got you I can’t help but think I need another. Something good for wank content, don’t you think? Something only for me… Something filthy. Something really nasty.”

Something about that last part sends the smaller ghoul into a bit of a spiral. He says it so casually, like he’s talking about taking him out on a date to the lake instead of preparing to fuck him to his limits and beyond. Of course the previous photo he took of him isn't exactly the type of one you frame and nail to the common room wall, but he’d thought it was nasty enough. The glimpse of his hole could make Mountain cream his pants in an instant.

Clearly Swiss thinks he can do better…

Dew isn’t sure how much more his body can take.

He digs his fingers into the meat of his thighs, his fingers dimpling the flesh and the tips of his claws poking out and threatening to bury themselves into his own skin. Swiss drags his dick against his sensitive insides until his head catches only slightly on his rim, loose and wet with fluids, and Dew holds his breath.

“Swiss–! I–!”

The force that he slams their hips together with makes him lose his grip and he goes boneless within the hands that hold him up. He’s a mess in a matter of seconds.

Thrust after bruising thrust. His cock slaps hard and heavy against his belly, leaving shiny droplets in its wake where it bounces. He’s been leaking like a faucet ever since Swiss came deep inside of him the first time. He hasn’t cum once. He’s gotten close countless times but he’s been tortured with pleasure for so long that the build up is dull and persistent in his belly, threatening to spill over with every touch and slide from the other ghoul inside of him, on top of him. He’s flushed so deep he’s almost purple and his balls ache. If Swiss would just grab him, grip him in that big hand and give him a few good strokes, a thumb just against the underside of his head, he’d cum so fast. So hard. He’s sure of it. But Swiss hasn’t touched him once and he knows well enough that his own hands are for holding himself open, not shooting ropes.

He’ll be good for him, he thinks and squeezes his eyes shut tight.

He has been.

He needs to be the exceeding amount of nasty that he needs, so he scrambles for a weak hold on his legs but his hands keep slipping off of the slick sweat that covers him like a film. He gives up and they flop down into the damp sheets, useless and spent.

“That’s okay, Dew,” Swiss says so fondly, so sweet despite how hard he’s pounding into his little body. His hands hold onto his hips just a little tighter–he’ll be covered in bruises where his fingertips break delicate vessels–and pants heavy into the air. The sound of their skin slapping together bounces around the room. “Just take it. Take it for me like I know you can.”

Dew whines and it sounds weird in his throat. Strained. Slightly pained. And the tears start flowing again when Swiss nails his prostate over and over again with that thick dick.

Every nerve in his body feels like it’s on fire. He can feel it all. Every nerve and every fiber, every signal that zips up like lightning to his brain and fills his bones with a violent buzz. He’s so sensitive all over, so sensitive inside that Swiss’ gorgeous dick feels twice as large, his head blunt, thick, as wet as ever. He can feel him leaking inside of him and he matches him with his own dick that has progressed to a steady stream that slides down the flat plane of his tummy towards his chest.

“Yeah, you’re doing so good, Dew,” he pants, lifting him up even more and making the angle that much more devastating. His spine is far too curved like this. His back burns and his thighs fall like dead weight to either side of his chest, his knees nearly up by his ears. He doesn’t even have to hold them to keep them there, he just has to make sure he doesn’t accidentally knee himself in the face. “Just a little more and I’m gonna blow in this hole, get it all sticky and full that you’ll have no choice but to leak with my cum. You ready? You want it? You better because it’s coming.”

He has just enough of his wits left to give him the slightest little nod from where his chin is pressed between his collarbones.

He wants it. Oh, he wants it.

His dick twitches when it bounces with each one of his thrusts and he nearly blurts a fat glob of pre onto his nose when Swiss decides to lean forward.

“It’s coming,” he gasps, eyes wild and dark.

His grip tightens and he starts to really pound him and Dew’s lost all control of his muscles, flopping like dead weight against the sheets, anchored in place solely by Swiss’ hold on his hips while he chases his final orgasm. He wants it so bad, needs it more than any of the previous loads that he pumped into him, and he surprises himself when his hole manages to flutter around his dick, making Swiss mewl between gritted teeth and his breathy moans pitch up and up and up until he’s nearly crying out and pulling the ghoul as far as he can possibly go onto his cock, spilling inside with an astounding amount of cum for it being his fourth.

“Fuck, Dew–! Fucking shit!”

He continues to fuck him through it until he begins to soften, and the moment that he finally sets him carefully back down on his back and pulls out is about as nasty as it gets. The sound makes them both moan and Dew’s face scrunches up when Swiss grabs him under the knees and pushes his legs up and open, barely giving him a moment to recover from the brutal position he’d been contorted into.

It squelches. Swollen flesh, red and throbbing, and an obscene amount of cum and slick that drip out of him like his own body produced it in mass. He can feel the mess all over his skin, dripping down between his cheeks towards the junction where his tail meets his spine, and he watches through tear-brimmed eyes as Swiss licks his lips and raises his right hand into the air. The smack that follows makes his ears go a little sharp and his scream gets caught in his throat. His eyes squeeze shut, sending thick tears into his hair, and once the right hand returns to his knee, the left one pulls back to give his other thigh a matching mark. The outlines of Swiss’ palms bloom almost immediately on pale skin. A perfect silhouette. Red and angry.

Dew leaks another puddle onto the mess on his tummy when Swiss bites at his lip and moans nice and pretty at the sight.

He reaches for the camera.

“Hold your legs open. Just like you did before. Nice and wide. Lemme see that hole, Dew.”

Dew, by some brilliant act of Satan below, manages to get his hands under his knees and take over the hold, pulling with the last of his strength to get himself open and as exposed as possible.

He shakes with violent sobs and the aftershocks of Swiss’ abuse on his body, but still spreads himself wide. His hole gapes–red and puffy. He leaks–creamy and slick. Ruined. His thighs, his cheeks, his skin–irritated and red with how their bodies slammed and slapped together for hours. He aches all over, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Perfect,” Swiss says, leaning in real close, almost too close that Dew can feel the puff of his breathing against his hole. “I’ll be cumming to this for fucking years.”

He presses the button and Dew hears the photo dispense from the photo slot for the second time that night, his arms giving out just as Swiss straightens back up and pulls it out, giving it a little shake.

“Now why don’t we make that little dick cum, yeah? Then maybe take a nice long bath? Cuddle up and go to sleep afterwards? That sound good?”

Swiss leaves the camera and the blank photo down on Dew’s dresser, an afterthought, and returns to the trembling ghoul, scooping him up into his arms and laying him down against his chest. One of his big hands combs tangled strands of golden hair out of his face and a kiss is planted on his temple. The other trails down his tummy before finally curling around his flushed and painfully hard dick. He spasms with it, his whole body jerking from the suddenly overwhelming stimulation, and Swiss shushes him sweetly, holds him tight and whispers softly into his ear to bring him back down to him.

“Shhhh, Dew… C’mon, baby. Stay with me, gonna make you feel so good… ‘t’s your turn now, pretty boy…”

He kisses him again, this time on the top of his head, and begins to stroke him slowly from root to tip.

Dew wraps an arm around his bicep and sobs harder.

#dewdrop ghoul #nsft #swiss ghoul #swiss x dewdrop

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