#rock and at least one other should be done tonight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

targaryenrealnessdarling · 10 months

Text

Breaking the Rules

Modern!Aemond x reader | Summary: Aemond was the one who established the rules of your fwb relationship, but can he really follow them? | Word Count: 5.4k~ | Warnings below the cut~

Links to my Taglists: General Taglist | Aemond Targaryen Taglist

Warnings: fwb relationship, fingering, p in v, pussy slapping, dirty talk, degrading, ass slapping, hair pulling, creampie, insinuation of oral (m receiving)

That little slither of time between submitting your dissertation and actually graduating was heaven.

The last student finance payment hit your bank, as well as everyone else’s, and as soon as exams were over, it was time for a party. One last part to send you all off into the big wide world.

Doing a four year course was akin to starting school for the first time, as it seemed everyone around you had done three years instead, graduated a year ahead, and you had to remember people’s names, make new friends and circles, all over again.

At least it was only one year.

There was only one person who had also done a four year course, your bestie, Helaena. Who just so happened to be the reason you met your now fuck-buddy, Aemond, of just over a couple of years.

Truthfully Helaena was the only thing keeping you sane. She was ‘mother’ on night’s out, the one who made the best hangover dippy eggs ever, but also just an all round good friend. Your absolute rock. She’d been supportive, albeit protective, when she’d learned of yours and Aemond’s…unconventional friendship.

Could it be called a friendship, if he wasn’t really friendly?

Not that he was ever mean. He just didn’t have a social bone in his body.

But an absolute freak in the sheets.

For a man so quiet and unsociable, he was surprisingly rough. He craved control, and this obsession didn’t stop in the bedroom either. But you enjoyed that about Aemond. It always felt raw, dangerous, as if he needed it. One flip of the switch and he was in that headspace. And the moment it was over, he’d retreat back into himself and leave soon after.

Helaena was the type of person who could spend all night in the 24-hour Library, head in her books and like it was any other day, have her hair looking pristine, face clear ready for her 8am lecture the next day. You, on the other hand, turned up, but looking considerably worse for wear than your dear friend, a messy bun perched on top of your head, and hefty dark circles under your eyes.

Your lovely, silver-haired friend was sat cross-legged before a floor length mirror, pulling a curling wand through her thick strands of hair, only leaving them long enough to form a loose wave. The phone screen perched on your bed lit up.

“That Aem?” Helaena asks, looking at you in the mirror.

You furrow your brows, “Baela. She’s meeting us there” you answer, typing out the response to her before clicking the phone away, “What are you wearing tonight?”

"Nothing terribly impractical. I'm not impressing anyone" she answers, dusting some highlighter over her cheeks. Not like she needs it, the cheeky sod, she already has amazing bone structure.

"Liar" you smirk, biting your lip, "You know Floris is going to be there and you're purposefully wearing a low cut top"

"Oh my god, leave me alone"

"I'm just pointing out the facts"

You get up and go to your wardrobe, pulling out a floral dress. It's July, so the nights are still bright and it's humid all the time, something short should do the trick.

Part of you wants to wear nothing underneath, just to see how far you can take it. Would Aemond be jealous? He shouldn’t be. He was the one to suggest you two weren’t exclusive, and that if either of you bumped into each other or just felt like it, you’d fuck.

But it's a party with old uni mates, so begrudgingly, you've opted to keep on a lace black thong, one you know gets guys immensely riled up. It's quite entertaining really.

Usually, you’d be disgusted to turn up to Aegon’s house. He was single, and unapologetically filthy. However, when you arrived, you were relieved beyond measure to find that Aegon had employed the use of a cleaner (probably at the behest and payment of their mother) before inviting people over. No used condoms, cigarette butts or lingering weed smell.

Since graduating, Aegon had opted to move into (quite permanently) one of the homes that Viserys had owned on the outskirts of the city. When their dad died, Alicent found no use of such big homes and so rented them out as Airbnbs. You remember Aemond telling you how Aegon was more than happy to just slip in unannounced one day, and that he’d paid for the first month’s rent, but after that had mysteriously stopped. Alicent let him stay anyway, as long as he behaved himself.

Which, of course, he didn’t.

You walked hand in hand with Helaena through the front doors, the bass and sheer loudness of the music audible from even the curb. Aegon had gone all out. Some of his friend’s were graduating as well, so he’d invited everyone. Pretty much half the university by the looks of it. Even though by student standards it was still fairly early, the party was heaving, so much so it was difficult to tell in the low light of the inside who was who.

“There she is!” Aegon’s voice boomed, a cigarette already between his lips and that lazy, dozy look in his eyes. You give Helaena a knowing look. He’s quite clearly been drinking a while.

He makes a show of leaning in to fake kiss his sister on the cheek, “My darling sister and …oh it’s you”

You playfully swat his shoulder, “Shut up”, you raise your eyebrows with a smirk, “Oh, nice to see you respecting the no smoking inside rule”

Aegon merely winked, flashing a smile with all his teeth before being dragged away for shots.

Helaena gasped quietly, “There she is, there she is, there she is”

Floris was on the other side of the room, leaning against a chair with a can of gin and tonic, wearing quite the piece. The effort almost rivalled Helaena’s, and your silver-haired friend was vibrating with excitement.

“Okay okay, deep breaths. Calm the kitty and just go talk to her”

She goes instantly pink, looking quite ethereal against the violet of her eyes, “I can’t just-”

“You can. I have every faith” you say, giving a reassuring smile and pushing a can of g&t in her hands.

Her eyes look nervous and worried in equal measure, “You going to be alright on your own?”

You nod quickly, “I’ll be fine, I’ll badger a Lannister or something”

She smiles anxiously and takes a breath, crossing her fingers. You watch as she crosses the room, dipping her head to Floris’ eyeline to initiate a conversation. She’s so cute, you think as she flushes pink.

With the party in full swing, now several cans deep and a nice buzz, you’ve found yourself ‘engaged’ in a conversation with a Martell, Baela and Rhaena having ventured outside for a smoke. You don’t remember his name, you only know that he smells dizzily of Tom Ford Black Orchid and that he’s giving bedroom eyes.

You say ‘engaged’ in conversation. Martells aren’t exactly known for their conversational skills, so you’re mainly nodding along to whatever he says, hoping that he might show you his bedroom skills associated with the stereotype.

Your phone vibrates and you look at the illuminated screen.

You furrow your eyebrows at his texts. What on earth would he need to talk about? And the unsent text messages are giving horror movie vibes, so with the buzz of the alcohol as well as your disinterest in him (and heightened one in the Martell) you click your phone off and put it back, only to be dragged to the dance floor by your hand.

Ok so he's not the best dancer either. If anything a tiny bit clumsy and mostly just grinding his clothed dick into your ass any chance he gets. But the buzz of the drinks, low lights and loud music drowns out all that. You and Aemond hadn't fucked in forever it felt like, and a woman had needs.

It's not even that you were pissed off at Aemond. The rules were rules, of course. But everything you did was always on his terms, and you felt you couldn't say a single thing about it.

It's not like you were his girlfriend.

You knew he was fucking at least one other girl. Alys Rivers. She was fucking gorgeous, but also quite a bit older. Something about the entire thing felt wrong. Like she might have been grooming him or something. But of course, who were you to judge? He had his own life. Could make his own choices.

He didn't know you weren't fucking anyone else though, things like that you kept close to your chest. The terms were no feelings. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he was the only one you were fucking and for one inescapable reason.

That you’d violated those terms.

So, in the interest of figuratively getting back at him, you smirk up at the Martell and push your ass back against him. His hands on your hips, pulling you back, moving with the best of the music. The dress leaves so little to the imagination that if he ventured merely a few inches lower, he could easily dive between your thighs.

The thought makes your insides clench. And you feel the Martell get hard behind you.

Your head zips up quickly, slightly dizzy, as a flash of white hair passes. At first you think it's Helaena, but there he stands, Aemond, on the other side of the room with a bottle of beer nestled in his grip. His violet eye watches darkly, as you continue to dance with the Martell. He almost looks amused, but frustrated at the same time.

Aemond hates parties. Especially now that he's graduated. So why the fuck is he here?

After rolling your eyes and finishing the song, you decide to not give Aemond the satisfaction of knowing you care enough to ask, instead going to the table to mix yourself another drink. The Martell guys isn't far behind, a hand on your waist.

You can feel his stare at the back of your head, even more so as the Martell’s hand ventures down, over the curve of your ass. One move under the hem, and he’d be touching bare skin. Something about it ignited a spark inside, knowing that he was watching.

Looking over your shoulder, he was watching still.

The fuck is his problem?

Some poor girl was standing at his side, trying to engage in some kind of conversation, which was clearly going well. He wasn’t giving her an inch of attention, and you smirked at her attempts, taking sips of your drink every now and then.

Around you, the party had almost doubled, some people you didn’t even recognise. Aegon’s house would be trashed in the morning, but looking over at the other Targaryen brother, who was happily dancing on the dining table, pouring the contents of his bottle down a girl’s top, he didn’t seem like right now he cared. In the corner, Helaena and Floris sat together, knees touching, looking pink in the faces with alcohol and chatting quietly amongst themselves over the loud music.

You downed your drink, wincing at the alcohol that hadn’t been mixed at the bottom, before whispering to the Martell, “Just going to the toilet”

You give a sigh as you ascend the stairs. Another nice thing about Aegon’s place is that whenever there are parties, going upstairs is a nice breather. Yes the bass still vibrates through the walls, but the bathroom is far enough away that it gives a moment of respite and a chance to sober up.

Which you promptly do once you’ve washed your hands, wiped under your eyes for any runaway mascara in front of the vanity, and take a breath to face the party again. To face him again.

It turns out, you didn’t have to. As soon as the door opens, you gasp and stagger backwards as Aemond firmly wraps his palm around your neck, just as a means of holding, not squeezing. Your back meets the wall with a thud, eyes looking wide up at him in a mixture of confusion and anger. His eyes have more in them, as he stands in front of you, tight lipped and fired up, ready for confrontation as he promptly shuts the door and locks it, setting your heart to a faster rhythm.

“You know, I was going to be nice” is the first thing he says, “But now I think I won’t”

He stares back with conviction with his one good, violet eye, his other a clouded over light blue, with the angry scar that ran through it somehow looking more painful that you’d seen it before. All you knew about it was that he was secretive about how it had happened, and only a handful of people had been told.

You were considered not worthy enough to know clearly.

You can’t deny, this side of Aemond thrills you. But despite the fluttery feeling in your stomach, your expression hardens into a frown.

“The fuck is wrong with you?”

He has the audacity to scoff, his hair, now shoulder length, sways as he moves, fingers flexing against your neck.

“The fuck is wrong with me?” he says, “I don’t think that’s the question we should be asking, is it?”

It occurs to you now that he’d been looking down at you, because now when he rights himself to his proper height, you have to look up at him. You swallow thick, some part of you nervous, and his eye glints when he sees the weakness there.

“I think we should be asking what the fuck you were doing out there” he finishes, low, attempting to be threatening.

You scoff, “Is that what this is about? Me dancing with an empty-headed Martell?”

“I wouldn’t call that dancing”

“And I would say I’m not your fucking girlfriend, Aemond” you bite back, expression hard against his. His mouth forms a line, “We just fuck, remember?”

His tongue hits the inside of his cheek in annoyance. But you’re not backing down.

“Although” you grin, looking him up and down, “We don’t even really do that anymore, do we?”

He takes a sharp breath in, releasing your neck to grip your face and tug you close to him.

But you just laugh, “What’s wrong? Can’t get it up?”

“Fuck you”

“Save that for Alys. See if I care” you hiss, trying to pull out of his grasp harshly.

An annoyingly smirk makes its way to his face, and you have to reaffirm to yourself to be mad at him, “Someone's jealous”

You scoff, “I’m not the jealous one here. You’re the one on my case because a Martell stared at my ass” you counter, his fingers digging into your jaw almost painfully, “I’m the one playing by the rules”

“And what rules are they?”

“The ones you made, dumbass” you argue, attempting to pull your face from his grip, but failing, “You know, not having feelings, being a cold, dead cave of a man who doesn’t want to admit he’s just having sex because he likes being in control”

Aemond’s face right now is unreadable, and he’s so close that you can feel the hot puffs of air that come from him. He’s angry, and you can see it. Something simmering beneath that cold gaze.

Under that though. It’s clear as day. He’s being put on show for his behaviour, in a manner someone nobody has dared to do before. And it is this vulnerability it’s clear he doesn’t enjoy.

His chest inflates large, taking a deep breath in before he speaks. But when he eventually does, it’s a surprisingly quiet whisper.

“I’ve not been with Alys for months”

The admission takes the breath from your lungs, and his fingers loosen somewhat. Moving along your jaw in a gesture too soft from what he was doing before.

“What?”

His face hardens a bit again, “She isn’t around” he admits softly, “It’s just you”

“Aemond-”

“I’ve changed my mind” he says, his his eye darting about your face, taking in your shocked expression, “I don’t like to share”

Your lips part and stay frozen where they are when his other hand squeezes the bare flesh of your thigh under your dress, tugging the skin painfully before venturing up to stroke his two fingers against your clothed pussy, his breath hitching when he feels the wetness already there.

“I’m very disappointed in you” he chastises softly, dipping his head into the crook of yours, running his sharp nose up the side of your neck, making all those little hairs stand on end. You feel like your heart is hammering so hard all the blood feels like jelly in your veins, a hotness creeps up your shoulders, and a pull of arousal tugs at your gut.

His lips part and he bites the skin there, semi-hard, enough to break skin if he really wanted to. You whine with your eyes shutting softly, his fingers drawing mini-circles around your entrance, and it’s difficult to not move your hips to meet his touches.

“You weren’t playing by the rules anyway, were you?” You mewl as his tongue runs over the site where he’d bitten, breath stuck in your throat as his fingers move your underwear aside and collects your slick on his fingers.

Warmth blossoms in your core as his fingers gently massage your bud, “Fuck-Aemond...”

His shirt is bunched in your fist, and you can feel him smiling slightly against your neck. The glint of the chain that peeks out from under the neckline of his shirt catches your eyes for a quick moment. He never took it off. Even when you fucked. Truthfully, it was sort of thrilling, watching it dangle in front of your face whenever he was on top of you, holding your legs up to your shoulders to-

“Were you fucking other people?”

Shit.

Two of his fingers sink all the way in, setting a flame ablaze inside. His breath is hot against your tender skin, his fingers far too effortlessly finding that sweet spot inside and brushing against it, stoking the fire within.

“You were so talkative earlier. What’s wrong, baby?” he asks in a faux sweet voice, not able to hide that shit-eating grin as he fucks you slowly with his fingers, “come on, you can do it”

Your breath feels so thin in your lungs it’s difficult to think, but his teeth bite at you again, as if to reprimand and your body jolts briefly, “Fuck-uh…No-no I wasn’t…”

“Wasn’t what?”

“I-” fuck this guy, “I wasn’t fucking anyone else”

“Hm” he hums low in his chest, pressed right against yours, you can feel it in your own, “I think that was against the rules, wasn’t it?” he asks, adding a third finger into you.

The first genuine moan manages to escape with the addition of his third finger, quiet, but it feeds his ego nonetheless. And he fucks up into you with renewed vigor, his breath coming in hurried pants, as if he cannot function unless he makes you come apart on him. His palm is grazing so hard against your clit with each micro-movement, that it honestly makes it difficult to breathe.

“The rules were we fuck who we want. No feelings” he reiterated, lips against your ear, “You broke the rules first”

“I didn’t-” your voice falls apart as he pushes, the pads of his thick fingers rubbing hard against your g-spot. That feeling returns in a wave of warmth, settling with pressure deep in your core and you squeeze impossibly tight at the incessant stimulation. Aemond groans quietly and low, feeling the soft, silky walls of your pussy clenching around his fingers alone, legs trembling trying to stay standing.

“You think I didn’t see it?” he asks in accusation, voice hard and stern, “You’re a smart girl and yet-” his other hand holds you around your waist, pulling you towards him as your body trembles, a white-hot, blazing orgasm making its way devastatingly through your core. His fingers never letting up their pace, “-you’re acting like a stupid little slut right now. All wet for me”

The degrading manner of his words and the pleasurable assault of his fingers prolong your orgasm, fading into your limbs with a dull buzz. But one that doesn’t last long. His fingers pull out of you, covered entirely by your arousal, and he presses them against your lips, groaning as your mouth accepts them and licks his digits clean. It’s so erotic you hum around his fingers, looking up at him through your eyelashes and smirking with pride once he pulls them away.

He doesn’t look any less stressed out. If anything he looks more pent up.

“I can’t stand you”

Your lips part in surprise, a quiet mewl escapes and a pained pleasurable jolt running through you when Aemond practically rips your underwear down your legs and delivers a hard firm slap to your wet heat.

“Aemond-” you start as his hands curl around your nape, pushing you harshly down over the vanity of the sink. You can feel him pressing behind you, your hips digging painfully into the porcelain, and feeling utterly exposed in your sundress now that he’s pocketed your underwear.

He flips the bottom of your sundress over your back, his palm meeting the flesh of your ass with a loud slap, making you whine as your cheek is pressed to the porcelain. It hurts, but you can’t help but feel that familiar throb of arousal in your core as it clenches around nothing. Your skin blooms in anticipation as you look back over your shoulder, hearing the clinking of his belt. You can’t help but smirk at how quickly he pulls his cock out, the angry red tip poking out through his fist as he strokes himself to full hardness.

“Don’t fucking look at me” his fingers thread into your hair at the crown and grip hard, pushing your head back down, pressing his erection against your slit and teasing you slowly.

You moan softly, moving your hips back to seek more friction, which earns several more hard slaps to your already tender ass in discipline, each followed by a desperate whine that falls effortlessly from your mouth. He almost gently soothes the angered skin with his palms after, clearly happy with the colour he’d made. He’d always been rough when it came to sex, yes, but this felt so much more exciting.

“You think you deserve it, hm?” he asks, barely pushing the head between your slick folds, parting them only slightly. It all feels so sensitive it almost hurts. What you’d give for him to just fuck you already is honestly pathetic.

“Please-” you say quietly, moving your hips towards him, even if it means he’ll punish you again.

He chuckled darkly, leaning over to pull your head up, your eyes meeting his gaze in the mirror. You look a bit of a mess, with mascara smudged at the sides, the waves you’d put in your hair slightly frizzy and cheeks flushed a dark pink. And as much as Aemond likes to put on the persona of control, his cheeks are just as flushed, as desperate for this as you are.

“Look how pathetic you look right now” he grins, his hand moving to your front to tug the dress over your front, a low growl forming in his throat when he finds no bra underneath. He palms your breast, teasing the hardened bud between his fingers and the feeling sends a cold tingle through your body.

“Beg for it” he whispers, mouth next to your ear. But all coherent thought is gone when the head of his cock runs down your slit, over your entrance and slaps it mockingly against your clit, the throb from the previous release still lingers and it sends shots of fire in your belly.

“Come on, baby”

“Please- fuck me” you breathe, so desperate that it sounds borderline cringeworthy to say. But you cannot bring yourself to care.

He grins. That was easy.

Your lips part in a gasp as his length slowly splits you open, stretching your pussy onto his cock. He knows what he’s doing and takes his time, allowing you to feel every vein, every ridge, even the way the tip tucks into that sensitive rough patch inside, your back arching with the electricity it gives you. It surprises you everytime, just how full you feel when Aemond fucks you. He is long and thick, able to fill you in a way that you’d never been able to find in a guy. And fuck did he know how to use it.

"Gods, tightest little pussy I've ever had…" he moans quietly.

Your body and jaw slackens as he pulls out and snaps his hips back against you to slam inside, a choked moan falling from your lips. His hand moves to your jaw, keeping your gaze in the mirror to look at him as he fucks you slowly at first, watching how your ass bounces with every push of himself inside. His head is buried near your neck, breath hot against your skin,

“You like that, huh” he breathes against you, hearing the strain evident in his voice. Your voice is useless right now, only able to make a few soft sounds of pleasure, “like it when I fuck you?”

Only a struggled moan comes out, and you catch your lips between your teeth, hyper-aware that you’re still fucking in a bathroom at a party.

"No need to be shy. It's just you and me" he utters against your skin, “Let me hear you. Or have I fucked you dumb again”

He punctuates his demand by pushing you forward harder, the porcelain digging into your hip bones and spreading your ass cheeks so that he can somehow get deeper. And he makes a grunt of displeasure when he doesn’t get the reaction he wanted. So instead he grabs the flesh of your calf and bends it high over the counter, spreading you impossibly wider.

It’s unconscious the way your mouth opens now, releasing your lips from your teeth as you moan helplessly, feeling the way his cock bullies your sweet spot, the way his flesh hits yours with every wet smack.

“Are these sounds just for me?”

“Yes…yes…” You chant almost imperceptibly.

“And it’ll only be me” he grunts, “do you understand? You’re mine”

You nod quickly. The pleasure is so overwhelming that you’ll agree to just about anything right now. Your core winds so tight, it feels like a fist is curling inside you and Aemond fucking you is just accelerating it.

“Say it” he demands, pressing your body against the vanity, his cock punishing your insides faster and harder. With each thrust comes the hard thud of the furniture against the wall, which you hope that the bass of the music downstairs covers enough.

“Yours…I’m yours…” your voice sounds almost pitiful. Every bit of you just desperate for that final reprieve.

Aemond grins against your skin, “Good girl…” he coos, his lips finding purchase on your neck and biting down, grunting into your skin at the way your pussy tightens around him as your second, more powerful orgasm echoes throughout your body.

"Shit- couldn't have any other pussy-oh fuck-you're perfect, baby" he coos next to you, the term of endearment making warmth creep into your chest.

It has Aemond fuck into you desperately, prolonging your seemingly never-ending pleasure into a long stream of fucked-out moans and breaths. With one final slam of his hips against your ass, his grip so tight it’s almost painful, you feel the warmth of his cum paint your walls. His cock twitches, trying to stuff as much of him inside you as is physically possible. Thank the gods for IUDs.

“Fuck-”

Both of your breathing is equally heavy, his hot against your shoulder. You can feel the intensity of it through his chest as it’s pressed against your back. His cock softens inside the longer you two remain in this position, until his hips leave you and he pulls himself out with an almost pained sigh.

Gulping air back into your lungs, your legs shakily meet the ground, tiredly pulling your dress back over your ass and bracing the sink, feeling the pleasant sting at your hips where they’d continued to meet the furniture.

His gaze meets yours in the mirror as he tucks himself away, looking somewhat flushes and uncharacteristically soft, especially after the way he’d just fucked you.

It’s so quiet, it’s like whoever speaks first, loses.

“I meant it” he says, somewhat breathily as he too gains grasps his energy, “I’ve not seen Alys in months”

You turn around to see him properly, half sitting against the vanity, feeling the soft throb of your heartbeat through your core still.

“Why?”

Aemond looks almost bashful, his cheeks still pink from the force of your little tryst just now combined with the way he nervously licks his lips.

“Because I’m the one who broke the rules first”

You furrow your brows, “What do you mean, Aemond?”

He swallows thickly, making a point of looking right at you.

“I caught feelings and…” he pauses, searching his mind for the rest of the sentence, “...didn’t want to scare you off”

Your lips remain frozen, parted. Your eyes flit about his face and he raises his arms, as if annoyed he’d even told you.

“I’ve never had this before”

“Had what?”

“Had this” he gestures between you both, “It’s never been like this with anyone else” he admits, his voice withering away at the end, “and I’m just fucking shitty at showing it, I know-”

“Aemond” you step forward to cup his face, halting his irritation in its tracks. Your thumb runs over the scar on his face, gaze on his eyes entirely, “you don’t need to explain yourself to me” you say softly.

"But I do" he argues, without that sternness to his voice now, but rather so quiet it's almost a whisper, "I didn't want to fuck things up. Because I always do"

You shake your head once, "What do you want? From this?"

"I want you" he says almost immediately, swallowing his saliva with anxiety, "and I want you to be mine…"

You laugh at his sweetness, he's never been like this, "I already said I was yours, remember?"

Your hands wrap around his shoulders, chests touching, "Think I always was"

The first genuine smile you ever see from Aemond Targaryen, is when you tell him this. It looks good on him. The way his eyes crinkle up is just too charming to resist.

Before he can say anything, you lean up on your tiptoes and kiss him, fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck, tracing over the silver chain. You hum in delight when you feel him shiver at the touch.

Kissing him as softly as this, your lips parting for each other to slowly consummate this budding relationship, it feels like you're meeting each other for the first time. Feels so intimate, like you're the only people that exist right now, despite the thump of the party downstairs.

You both pour everything you feel into the soft caresses of your lips and tongues, trying to make him feel as loved as you think he deserves.

He smiles bashfully when you break, fiddling with the hem of your dress.

"This was a good touch" he says jokingly, "was it for me?"

You laugh, "It might have been"

"Cheeky little minx" he replies, pressing a soft, tender kiss once more to your lips. It feels so right, you want to hit yourself for not addressing this sooner. It feels nice to have your heart so full like this.

Aemond grasps your hand in his large one and goes to unlock the door. A motion you stop immediately, pushing him by his chest.

"Um, what are you doing?" You ask, a teasing smile on your face.

A moment of panic passes his face and it makes you want to laugh. His eyes wide and mouth open, wondering what he's done wrong.

"Getting back - to the party?..."

You shake your head, your palm running over the prominent bulge in his jeans.

"Not with this you're not" you smirk, "was all this just from kissing me?"

He bites his lip, trying to hide his grin and the way he visibly flushes from your hand on his erection.

"...Maybe"

"Maybe?"

"Maybe" he grins.

Your hands go to his belt once again, making light work of it. Aemond groans breathily as your hand encircles his length, giving him a few languid pumps that are just painfully too slow.

You smile through your eyelashes as you sink to your knees, feeling yourself become aroused just at the sight of him like this, all vulnerable and at your mercy.

With his cock heavy in your palm, you press your lips to the base, making your way slowly with your tongue to the top, tracing the vein there on the underside. His musky scent, smelling of sex and sweat envelops the air around you.

"Let me take care of you first" you grin, watching his eyes crinkle as he smiles.

Perhaps rules were made to be broken.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

General Taglist: @risefallrise @valeskafics @theoneeyedprince @thelittleswanao3 @hb8301

Aemond Taglist: @m00n5t0n3 @boofy1998 @merakiaes @hanihoney88 @let-love-bleeds-red @bellaisasleep @watercolorskyy @heavenley1927 @ryswritingrecord @partypoison00 @gaeela-6 @saeselkie @padfooteyes @introverbatim @queenofshinigamis @thatkingofgirl @ryswritingrecord @dahlias-and-marigolds @triscy

914 notes · View notes

fortunatelyuniquepeach · 1 year

Text

Rudy who's got the hots for Alejandro's girl𓆩♡𓆪

Pairing: Alejandro x Rodolfo x fem!reader

cw/tags: masturbation, nsfw.

a/n: i'm aware this have many grammer mistakes and i apologize, but i'm too burned out to edit the whole thing. enjoy🫶🏼.

Rudy was actually quite surprised when Alejandro told him he's got a girl back home, usually he'd tell him the moment he likes someone but this time was too special for him he was scared it'd be ruined if he told anyone about. rudy doesn't take it to the heart knowing how dangerous it is to be open about relationships with their job.

When they are finally back home Alejandro can't wait to introduce his two favorite people to each other, he invites Rudy over for dinner that night.

Rudy doesn't think much about it ,this isn't his first time to meet someone that Alejandro's dating. usually it goes fine ,they talk a little, maybe share a few laughs and that's about it. If he's lucky he'd meet them again but with their job, dating can be really difficult to both rudy and Alejandro.

Rudy should be there anytime soon and unlikely of Alejandro, he's a little nervous this time. maybe it's because this is the first time it's actually serious and he'd die if things don't go well between his bestfriend and his sweet sweet girl. his sweet girl who's made sure everything is perfect, She's even prepared what Alejandro has told her is Rudy's favorite meal, hoping she can bribe him into liking her with doing so.

Hearing the doorbell's ringing, she anxiously rubs her hand down her pretty sundress, the one Alejandro told her to put on telling her "With how beautiful you look in that he'll like you in no time princesa". Alejandro finally opens the door as she stands behind him, waiting for the childhood bestfriends to be done with greeting each other so she can finally say hi.

Rudy's eyes widen at the sight before him ,the pretties girl he's ever seen in an even prettier dress. "this fucking jerk" rudy thinks. Alejandro's must be behind this knowing he's got a thing for sundress. He's always done this, used his partners to mess with him as a joke, at least that's what Rudy thinks it is.

"hi rudy", it's all too much for him, the angelic voice, the innocent eyes, the sweetest fucking smile and her perfect body wrapped in a dress he thinks he'll remember forever. He has to pull himself out of his thoughts to say hi back, he tries to sound as normal as possible but the giggles she lets out at his nervousness really don't help.

Alejandro watches as he tries to hide his smirk, not wanting his princess to catch him being a dirty boyfriend who enjoys his bestfriend eating his girl with his eyes and how his cheeks warm up even more every time she speaks to him. He even enjoys the way Rudy has to pull his shirt down to hide his erection, he looks at him when he does this, and Rudy feels like he could die.

the rest of the night goes as normal as it could, Alejandro's princesa being the sweetest host ever, Rudy being a terrible friend letting it all get him hard as a rock, and Alejandro letting him know he knows.

He almost knows Rudy is going to drive lousily on his way home, distracted by the thoughts of those soft, glossy lips and those soft looking thighs, he might even forget to lock his front door just trying to get to his bedroom as quick as he can. He knows that'll he fist his cock in frustration to the thought of his girlfriend, unable to lower his moans, whimpering and whining as he'd imagine her much smaller hands stroking him up and down, and thrusting against his bed needing the smallest amount of friction to cum, and he will. Harder than ever.

And as he finally comes down from his high ,the guilt starts eating at him. His thoughts are about to eat him alive telling him what a terrible terrible man he is only to be interrupted by the sound of a ringtone of an incoming text from his phone.

"we really enjoyed having you over tonight, hermano. Same time next weekend?"

589 notes · View notes

chaoticlicense · 6 months

Text

Leaving It All Behind

Summary: During the victory celebration, you seek out Zevlor to tell him of your intention to leave behind the life you once knew.

Word Count: 1266

Tags: SFW, Zevlor, Elf Reader, AFAB Reader, Zevlor x Elf Reader, Zevlor x AFAB Reader, OC Based Reader, Non-Tav Reader, Second Person POV, Fluff, Cuteness

AO3

You find him at the edge of camp, standing barefoot where the sand meets the water. His boots have been discarded, placed neatly behind him against the rocks. Gentle waves lap against his bare feet, toes digging into the soft, wet sand. Zevlor’s head is turned to the sky when you approach, molten eyes watching the stars. There’s a small smile on his lips as he slowly turns his head from left to right, taking it all in. The celebration is still ongoing around you, tieflings and fellow druids (those who stood by the tieflings against Kagha) alike share in wine, ale and laughter. But you find yourself drawn to their leader who stands isolated from the rest.

As you come to stand at his side, you turn your head to the sky and join him in stargazing. The two of you gaze at the night sky for a while in comfortable silence until Zevlor turns his attention to you.

“Beautiful, aren’t they?” he asks.

Oblivious to the way his eyes soften as he takes you in, you nod in agreement.

“Yes, they are. You must have missed the sight of them during your time in Avernus,” you muse. “I imagine there are no stars in the Hells.”

Zevlor hums. “None at all, I’m afraid. None like the ones here, at least.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see the tiefling smile a little, molten eyes studying you.

“In truth,” he continues, “There was a time when I thought I would never see the stars again.”

Then, a warm, calloused hand grazes your own and your heart flutters.

You hadn’t known Zevlor for long, but from the moment he led his people to the Grove, you felt an undeniable connection between the two of you. As he came to Halsin seeking protection, seeking shelter against the chaos of the world around him, you knew in some way that you were destined to help him. Much to your fellow Druids’ dismay, you were always eager to help those in need no matter the cost. A flaw, Kagha said, a weakness. She turned her back on the tieflings the moment Halsin left in search of the Nightsong, but not you.

You defied her will by showing them kindness when no one else would. You rose early, before dawn, to hunt and gather food for them to ensure they remained full. The first time you brought venison already skinned and portioned to Zevlor, he stood before you speechless. In all your years, you had never watched someone as composed as he come close to tears.

He had taken the meat and the pelts with endless thanks that spanned days later.

And so you continued to support him and his people, supplying them with whatever the needed, regardless of Kagha’s cruelty towards you for it. This support led to a great deal of time spent with the older tiefling, time that brought you closer together. Close enough that you can’t help the warmth flooding through you at the slightest touch.

“Shouldn’t you be celebrating?” Zevlor asks after a while.

“Hm?”

“I thought you’d want to partake in the festivities after a well deserved victory.”

With a shrug, you fold your arms across your chest.

“I’ve had my fill for the evening. Too much wine and I’ll end up wildshaping into an owlbear, scaring off my newfound friends,” you say with a laugh.

Zevlor smiles at this. “That would be quite a sight.”

“For you, perhaps. But not, I think, for the rest of the camp.”

“You never know.”

Shaking your head, you hold his gaze as you share a moment of laughter.

“I have to ask,” he begins. “If you are done with the celebrations, why seek me out tonight? There are plenty of others more deserving of your attention than I.”

You’re not sure if you should be offended or flattered by his words. If not for the gentle tone of his voice, you might have wondered whether he enjoyed your company or wanted you to leave him be.

“Are you trying to get rid of me, Zevlor?” you tease.

The corner of his eyes wrinkle as he shakes his head and reaches a hand towards your face. He takes a strand of loose hair fallen from your updo and tucks it neatly behind your pointed ear.

“I would never do such a thing,” he says softly. “I just wanted to know why you’d spend your evening with an old tiefling like me when there is far more merriment to be had with the others.”

“You’re hardly old, Zevlor. Do you have any idea how old I am?”

“I wouldn’t dare to guess for fear of insulting you,” he laughs.

Rolling your eyes, you bump your shoulder against his playfully.

“Regardless, how I choose to spend my time and who I choose to spend my time with is my business. And tonight, I choose to spend my time with you. That is to say, if you’ll have me?”

Zevlor’s hand moves from your ear, fingers gently brushing against your cheek before his arm falls to his side once more.

“I most certainly will. In fact, I have come to welcome your company these past days.”

Heat floods your cheeks and you pray to Silvanus that he doesn’t notice.

“That is…a relief to hear, truly,” you say, a little breathless. “Then what I came to say to you will be much easier.”

His brows raise, interest piqued. “Oh?”

“I’ve decided that I want to come with you to Baldur’s Gate. I want to join you and your people and help you navigate the way forward. I know it won’t be easy but I know the path better than most. I can help you.”

“But…what about the Grove? What about your people?”

“They were never my people. Halsin brought me to the Emerald Grove when I was just an elfling. A child, in truth. A child who became as much of an outsider as any who came across them. If it weren’t for Halsin’s kindness, I would have been cast out by Kagha and her ilk.”

Your voice spits venom as you speak her name. The elf in question never truly accepted you into the Grove the way Halsin did. She could sense something in you that she distrusted. Something that drove her to all but ignore you these past several decades. In doing so, in showing her distrust, she brought about the same feeling in the others. Few of the other Druids trusted you after that.

“No,” you continue. “The Grove was never my home, and its people were never my people. I have wanted to leave it behind for some time but there was never a chance to do so before now. Before you. I have never felt more…wanted than I have by you, Zevlor. You and your people have shown me more kindness in the past tenday than the Druids have in the past ten years. The least I can do is repay you by helping you on your journey to the city.”

Zevlor is quiet. His eyes bore into your own as he considers your words. The flames of his irises seem to burn into you with such ferocity you think you might catch fire. Then he reaches for your hand. Fingers lace with yours as he pulls you a little closer.

“You don’t have to do this, you know?”

Sighing, relieved, you nod. “I know. That’s why I want to.”

“Then you will be the most welcome company on the journey ahead of us.”

All written content belongs to ©chaoticlicense // you do not have permission to use any of my works // do not repost or modify/edit // all content is written for adults by an adult // any characters unless stated otherwise, belong to their rightful owners.

#chaos writes #chaotic writing #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #zevlor #zevlor x reader #reader x zevlor #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #zevlor fanfiction #zevlor x reader fanfiction

79 notes · View notes

boonsmoon · 5 months

Note

Could you do Mu Qing x fem!reader? Where ready is a sister of Feng Xin. Mu Qing and reader never get a long until the two where sent on a mission together. The reader gets injured and Mu Qing and the reader get stuck in some room since the enemy kinda kidnaped them. You can add something yourself if you want but yeahhh

Horrendously late timing, I know I lost motivation to write and school started up again

Request Masterlist Mu Qing x f!reader Genres:🎉🌸💞🪭

Foundation of Love (1)

Coming from a life without much luck, you were at least blessed enough to ascend to heaven like your elder brother, though your ascension was much later than his. You did consider yourself lucky when you two were able to work together under Xie Lian.

However, the cycle must always come full circle, that includes luck. Feng Xin and yourself had the displeasure of working alongside Mu Qing. This man was too harsh with his words, he must have a massive ego to talk such a way while working under another!

It was this simple perception that garnered dislike towards your fellow subordinate and my did it last a long time. While very open about how you felt, the two of you at least had the sense to leave your rivalry outside the presence of heaven officials.

None of this stopped Xie Lian from catching on; however, as he was more attentive than the other gods you interacted with. Due to being around y'all often and seeing you avoid Mu Qing like the plague, Xie Lian thought the best way to help the two of you get along was sticking you together on an easy mission.

You were hesitant at first, Feng Xin and Mu Qing are more combat abled than you, they would be a better pick for the mission.

"It's because you aren't as skilled you need to join Mu Qing!" Xie Lian said, "this mission requires both balance of brain and brawn. I'm assigning you as the thinker this time." He sounded a bit too enthusiastic for this mission.

Not wanting to inconvenience the god further, you accepted the dreaded mission. Leaving, the both of you couldn't have looked more dutiful, but the moment you were far enough away it was a barrage of insults.

"Accepting a mission with you is the same as going alone," Mu Qing said, looking at you condescendingly. "You should give up and go back."

As much as you wanted to give up, you can't let him win. You're basically doing what he wants if you don't follow through! And this determination against him showed clearly, "obviously Xie Lian doesn't trust you enough if he had to ask me to babysit you."

And this continued... Until you got to the hot spot of recent ghost attacks. It was dusk already, so your mission would be starting soon, obviously not in your favor.

"It would make more sense to follow the ghost's patterns for tonight and attack tomorrow," you tried to argue, "then we know what we're up against!"

Mu Qing; however, wouldn't listen one bit, "are you telling me my skills aren't good enough? I actually want this mission to end sometime soon."

There was no point in arguing, as that would just make getting the mission done harder. So instead you both decided to split up, for each others sanity.

This turned out to be the worse plan ever! Almost 5 minutes in and already a ghost was chasing around the area. Just your luck, to get stuck on a mission with Mu Qing and wander without his protection!

With enough time passing you assumed your screams of terror would alert Mu Qing, because you just couldn't keep up this marathon anymore. It was most unfortunate when you tripped over a rock and basically had the ghost tackle you.

Lightly scratched from the ground you tried to move, but not before the ghost could get a few cuts in. The utter inconvenience of these wounds ended up hindering your pace.

You ran inside what looked like shelter to hide from the ghost, which seemingly worked because it had disappeared for a few minutes. Going further inside you realized this place may be bigger than it appeared.

Good things can't last forever though, as the ghost came sprinting back to your location, and you had to bolt it. But a few doors down, there he was, your knight in not such shining armor walking out of a room.

Upon noticing your predicament he initiated battle with the ghost, though futile as Mu Qing kept getting pushed back. Realizing this Sisyphus battle, the most sensible thing he thought to do was carry you and run.

Yes, he picked you up like a football and started running around the building, looking for somewhere to hide. Maybe an exist if you were lucky. What neither of you realized is no matter how many turns you took, how far you walked, you only ended up deeper in the building.

Noticing the ghost had disappeared, Mu Qing set you down in a random room. And thus your adrenaline died down, bringing argument to ensue.

"What was that for!? I'm not an item to be lugged around!" You furiously said. Only to be answered by an equally angered Mu Qing, "well there's not much I can do when I'm stuck fighting a ghost and trying protect you at the same time!"

You decided to take this moment to recon, think of a strategy to eliminate the ghost and escape this place. It was only after hours when the sun shone through that you noticed both of you have been stuck in here all night.

"I know we don't see eye to eye very much," you started, "but this clearly is more than we can handle, and required us to work together." Your statement was followed by a scoff.

After teamwork and piecing together clues, you both successfully found your way outside. Only to be met with Xie Lian and Feng Xin.

Both of you were confused, you only left for a day. "I can take care of things from here," Xie Lian spoke. But you and Mu Qing took that as him doubting your skills.

"We've been gone for one measly day, you can't possibly think I am in need of that much help?" Mu Qing said with you jumping in, "I second that! We just need one more day."

Xie Lian went after the ghost, which left Feng Xin to tell you what happened in the past day... Or days that is.

"Basically, the ghost was actually difficult, and we've been gone for 4 days?" You questioned, looking pale.

"Yeah... We came here to get things fixed," Feng Xin said, giving you a thumbs up.

Absolutely horrible luck you have indeed, but at least you learned to tolerate Mu Qing, and even understand him on a certain level. Xie Lian can proudly say this is the start of something new between the two of you.

i intended on this being romantic but instead it appears i went on a side quest

2 parts? enemies to friends to lovers? who knows

anyways as i said at the beginning, school started back up, so slow reqs

Part 2

#tian guan ci fu #tgcf #heaven official's blessing #heaven official's blessing x reader #tgcf x reader #tian guan ci fu x reader #mu qing #mu qing x reader

64 notes · View notes

gumnut-logic · 2 months

Text

“Hey, Virg, c’mere.”

Virgil nearly lost his drink as Gordon yanked on his arm. “Gordon?!”

His fish brother muttered something that could possibly be considered an apology in some reality, somewhere, but kept pulling, dragging Virgil across the room.

They were at a London function, dressed to the nines, cufflinks and all, and Virgil had been in a very interesting conversation with his plus one. That plus one being Cass McCready and she was dressed in a most appealing manner that had him itching for a paintbrush…among other things.

Instead, he was being dragged across the floor by his fish brother and Cass was fast vanishing behind him in the crowd.

Her amused smile was rather alluring at least.

Gordon and he were going to have words after this.

His brother finally stopped tugging when they reached a group of rather burly looking men and women. All of them were dressed in evening wear, but there was a certain anticipation in all their expressions.

What?

A small table had been set up with two chairs. A particularly large man was sitting in one of them, an air of confidence emanating off of him.

Virgil stared.

“Virg, it is up to you to uphold how Tracy honour.” Gordon straightened beside him.

“What?”

“I need you to arm wrestle this man and prove your heavy lifting muscles to these dunderheads.”

There was a muffle of snorts at that and Virgil suddenly realised he knew a couple of these guys.

This was Blue Squad. Cass’ firefighting team.

A soft sigh of silk and Cass appeared at his elbow. “Looks like you have a challenge there, Tracy.” She was smiling at him.

It was a nice smile.

“C’mon, Virg, Tracy honour is at stake.”

He turned to his brother and glared, only to find Penelope on the fish’s arm.

Oh, honour, definitely.

Shows of masculinity really weren’t his thing. Scott had been known to flex his muscles occasionally for the ladies, even if it wasn’t immediately obvious, but Virgil was quite happy to draw attention in other ways.

Cass placed a hand on his arm and whispered in his ear. “The team need a little encouragement. Show them how it is done.”

He arched an eyebrow at her. This was her squad…and then he saw the sparkle in her eye. His lips curled as he saw the pride in her people shining there.

“Virg…” It was almost a whine as Gordon tugged on his tux again.

“Okay. Fine.”

“Yess!”

Gordon should never play poker.

Or maybe he should. His military brother did know how to play a situation, after all. This was possibly all a show.

Virgil folded himself into the chair opposite and found himself looking up at the firey opposite him. “Hi. Virgil Tracy.”

“Butch Huggins.” His voice was like a rumbling rock fall and his smile ever so confident. This was definitely a guy you wanted on your side when busting into a building on fire. He looked like he could take down a wall even in his tux.

Gordon, what the hell have you gotten me into?

A glance up at the spectators involved and he found himself ringed in eager smiles, Cass’ included.

She did have a lovely smile.

“Are we doing this?” The rock fall was apparently getting impatient.

Virgil swallowed and, unclipping his cufflinks, a present from Scott some time ago, rolled up his sleeve.

Butch did the same, revealing tattoos of flame up the length of well-defined forearm.

Maybe he should have brought his exosuit with him tonight.

The image of his claw and everything it was capable of filled his mind for a moment.

Gordon was dead when they got home tonight.

One dead fish.

And Scott might even grill him. Yes, Virgil was petty enough to bring in big bro on this one.

Where was Scott anyway?

Probably enjoying some female company. This Firey’s Charity Ball was full of very capable women, after all.

Butch slammed his elbow down on the table enough to trigger Virgil’s funny bone from afar.

Okay, well, apparently he was doing this.

Why did he feel so small? He wasn’t used to feeling small.

But confidence wasn’t something he was lacking, it was just the laws of physics didn’t seem to be leaning in his direction at the moment.

Cursing his fish brother from here to Atlantis, Virgil placed his elbow on the table. Butch grabbed his hand.

It was like being grabbed by a gorilla. Honestly, the man’s hand was huge.

If he was injured doing this and off rescues for any time at all, Gordon wasn’t going to be the only Tracy death later on.

Scott would kill both of them.

Cass was watching, though.

Virgil kicked himself for being so stupid.

Could he kill Gordon twice?

“Okay, we ready?” Gordon was flicking his eyes between Virgil and Butch.

“Ready.” Seriously, the man had a crumbling mountain for a voice.

“Let’s get this over with.” Virgil glared at his little brother.

Though something was warm in his stomach that Gordon was proud enough of him to set him up like this.

A little warm.

Very little.

“Ready, set…” Focus. “Go.”

And suddenly the mountain was falling on him.

Butch grunted, obviously throwing himself into this.

But Virgil Tracy had had mountains fall on him before and his shoulders were well trained in catching them.

The force travelled up his arm into his shoulder. His bicep was assisted by a considerable trapezius and deltoid, and while his forearm worked, his well-built pectoral joined in the refusal to move. Virgil pivoted just a little in his seat as practised reflexes took the strain.

And negated it.

Butch yelped as his hand was flexed backwards and slammed elegantly to the table top.

Oh, shit.

Virgil let go immediately. “Are you okay? Let me see that.” He reached for the man’s hand as it was quickly yanked away the moment he released it.

Butch stared at him. “How the hell?”

But Virgil didn’t have the chance to answer as the crowd around them erupted into cheers and hollers. There were hands patting him on the back and grabbing at him.

Someone kissed his cheek.

He blushed as he realised it was Cass.

Suddenly appreciating that he was still sitting down and there was an entire squad of fireman glaring at him…with some respect along with the outrage, Virgil hurriedly clambered to his feet.

“Way to go, Virg, I knew you could do it!” Gordon was bouncing on his feet.

Virgil shot him with his eyes.

The fish ignored him and kept bouncing until Penelope wrapped an elegant hand around his arm and distracted him with a smile.

She winked at Virgil.

A strong hand wrapped around Virgil’s bicep in almost a mirror move. “Smooth, Tracy. Huggins needed to be put in his place. I can use this to up the training regime. You’ve slapped down a benchmark.”

Virgil turned to find that beautiful smile on her face again. Her squad was grumbling behind her, shooting admiring glances mixed with glares in his direction.

Maybe he should join the squad next vacation just to fix that.

Yes, that was the entire reason why that suddenly seemed even more attractive.

Cass’ smile widened as she tugged gently on his arm, letting her head drop to his shoulder as it became a laugh.

Hmm, maybe he should thank the fish after killing him.

-o-o-o-

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #virgil tracy #gordon tracy #cass mccready #nuttyfic reblog #romance #but only a hint #a reblog to make up for the lack of fic in my previous post

40 notes · View notes

blvckdress · 1 year

Text

𝘾𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙚 ?

Fiona Gallagher x Sister! Gallagher Reader

Fiona hits rock bottom. Everyone seems to be dealing with their own shit until you come along and remind her that you'll always have her back.

You were happy with how your life was at the moment. I mean sure, with community college, your part time receptionist job at some firm where you still have no idea what it is they do - amongst other side hustles - and dealing with countless family bullshit, your life was more than chaotic. But you were making something of yourself, something that you really loved doing and if it meant dealing with all that then so be it.

Debbie has been a huge pain in the ass so far with her raging meticulousness towards finances and overall bossiness. You loved Debbie, you really did, but for the past few weeks you crashed at the place of a 60-year old woman named Barbara in your Spanish class who you became friends with after bonding over the professor's receding hairline. However tonight she had "company" over and you decided you would literally rather be anywhere else.

It was cold and dark out and you just got back from taking an hour test so tonight you were planning to go home, drink a little bit of brandy and maybe have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.

As you walked down the familiar street where you witnessed at least three fights and an arrest daily, you noticed Fiona leaning back against the bench looking up at the sky.

"Fiona?"

She looked at you and for a second her eyes lit up.

"Hey (Name)."

You plopped down next to Fiona.

"What're you doing out here?" You ask, leaning your head against her shoulder. She rests her head on yours.

"Debbie changed the locks."

You groan.

"Ugh Debbie! What the hell is up with her?"

"She's got a massive stick up her ass that's what," You both look at each other then laugh.

Looking at her up close you take in her appearance. Her eyes are bloodshot and she looks like she hasn't slept in days.

"Hey Fi...are you doing okay?"

She sighed, closing her eyes as she exhaled a large breath.

"Right now...no."

You shared her sentiment. Ugh damn it, Debbie! You were sure that changing the locks cost more money than what they were all spending on turning on the lamp for five seconds after six o'clock.

"Coffee?"

"Coffee."

Ever since you were in middle school and got the taste of an espresso with a shit ton of milk you liked having mini coffee dates with Fiona. No matter what time or place whenever one of you made coffee it was a sign to just fuck everything.

Fiona lit her cigarette and blew out the smoke. The two of you were leaning against the brick of some random convenience store, cups of coffee in your hands.

"Everything's just so fucked up. No matter what I do it's just -" Fiona caught herself as her voice wavered. You took a sip of your coffee. "It's just so hard. I really thought I had it and then...everything blows over."

You reached over to hold her hand.

"I'm really proud of you kid, y'know that?"

You mouth forms a small smile. "Fiona." She turns towards you.

"The only reason I'm able to do all this is because of you. You took care of all of us your entire life. Don't be so hard on yourself."

You and the rest of your siblings were struggling enough as it is, so you can't imagine what she has had to deal with all these years.

You continued, "I'm sorry that we haven't talked that much. I missed you."

Fiona smiles. "I've missed you too (Name)."

"You should leave this place."

Fiona looks at you and laughs. "What? What do you mean?"

"I'm serious! Once you're back on your feet - which I know you will be - just leave. Do what you wanna do without having to worry about us."

And you mean it. Honestly, you pray to god she listens.

Fiona looks thoughtful, taking a drag of her cigarette before sipping her coffee.

Thirty minutes later you were ready to go to sleep. Shitty coffee, I guess. You supposed Barbie must have had her fun and is already asleep now.

"Alright I'm done, wanna come with?" You ask.

"And go where?" Fiona asked, tossing her cig and coffee in the trash.

"Classmate's crib, she has a pull out." Fiona swung her arm around you and pulled you close.

"Thanks (Name)."

"Anytime Fi."

#shameless us #shameless one shot #fiona gallagher #fiona gallagher apologist #this woman deserves the WORLD and more #fiona gallagher x reader

201 notes · View notes

heliads · 2 years

Text

Discoveries at the Dance

Based on this request: "It was the night of the Prawn, Y/n & Addison were there but depressed as Zed & Wyatt can’t make it. Addison noticed that their dates had arrived they went to Zed & Wyatt. An earthquake happened so everyone followed it and found the moonstone. Y/n’s necklace (the moonstone one Wyatt gave her) started to glow, Addison suggested to put it on the moonstone & when she did she transformed into a Werewolf"

masterlist

It is the night of the school dance, and what should be one of the happiest evenings in your memory thus far is instead being spent trying to hold back tears. You’re only mostly successful. Across the room, your best friend Addison is experiencing similar levels of joy. Both of you have been looking forward to this night for about as long as you’ve been alive, but here you are– two girls, absolutely miserable. Clearly high school isn’t the place for high expectations, but you had rather hoped to at least enjoy yourself a little bit.

As if running through similar thoughts in her own joyless head, Addison gives a weak little laugh. “Well, don’t we look like we’re having a good time? We might as well get ourselves together, this night can’t get any worse.”

“Are you sure about that?” You ask balefully. “I’m pretty sure we can keep digging. Rock bottom isn’t real to me yet.”

Addison snorts in spite of herself. “Oh, come on. We’ve both been dreaming about going to the Prawn since we were kids and first heard about it. We have our perfect outfits and everything. Surely we can at least have a little bit of fun tonight, right?”

You look at her doubtfully. “We could, if it weren’t for the fact that we’re missing something even more important than a dream outfit. You know, maybe that our dates are all physically barred from entering?”

Addison grimaces. “I was trying to avoid thinking about that, but yeah, that does make for a bit of a downer.”

You laugh bitterly. “At least we look good. We have to show up eventually, right? Let’s swallow our pride and just be there. We can’t push this off any longer.”

“Are you sure about that?” Addison asks, looking wistfully at a framed photo of her and Zed on her desk.

“Positive,” you say grimly, “Now let’s go. The Prawn waits for no man. Nor monster, apparently.”

That’s the problem with the dance, after all. Everything about it is perfect– the decorations, the lights, the excited laughter of students billowing out from the propped open doors. The only thing you’re missing is the fact that the boy you love is not allowed to step foot on the premises due to the fact that he’s not entirely human.

See, you knew there would be problems when you first started falling for Wyatt Lykensen. Of course there would be problems. After all, look what happened when Addison started dating Zed. Despite the fact that she was a star cheerleader and he was single-handedly turning Seabrook football around, everyone in town had opinions on it, and most all of them were bad. Factor in the fact that at least zombies weren’t unfamiliar to the people of Seabrook due to the fact that they’d been present for years, and it’s obvious that the Zed situation was the best case scenario in a sea of really bad alternatives.

Wyatt, on the other hand? Wyatt, who’s one of the werewolves, who will never know a reception into this town with open arms? He has none of Zed’s stellar reputation in the high school, which means that his entrance into the ranks of Seabrook students would only be received even worse. The werewolves may, admittedly, have not had the purest of intentions when they first showed up, but they want to be here now. Wyatt has convinced you of that a thousand times over.

You’re not the one who needs convincing, though. All of Zed’s hard work championing the cause of monster equality, everything the werewolves have done to try to make a place for themselves in the town, and it’s all come to nothing. The Prawn is humans only, something that you and Addison are deeply infuriated over tonight. There’s nothing you can do now, though– you already tried your hardest to avert this crisis and it still happened.

So, as much as you would love to be able to have your moment with your boyfriend, it’s not going to be happening tonight. You, Addison, and Bree are going in a group of friends out of solidarity for all that you’ll be missing. Addison is wishing Zed was there right now, you know for a fact that Bree wants Bonzo there to dance with her, and you’re looking out of every window in the hopes that you’ll somehow see Wyatt showing up to be there for you.

Needless to say, none of you are all that pleased with the way the school dance is turning out. Still, you’re going to show up out of responsibility. The three of you arrive at Seabrook High with low expectations, and even the twinkling lights and dashing pastel decorations can’t win you over. The dance could be taking place in the most detailed mansion and you’d still be thinking about the one person you want there more than anything.

The music is good, though, and you’re almost able to distract yourself from thoughts of wishing your boyfriend was there by dancing with Addison and Bree. All of a sudden, Addison taps your shoulder, her entire face rewritten with shock.

“Am I dreaming, or does the Prawn suddenly have a few new arrivals?”

You follow her line of sight to see a group of people racing towards the doors to the school. Your heart leaps when you realize that it’s a group of monsters, Wyatt at the front. They’re all dressed to the nines, and stroll right past the chaperones trying to keep them out like the angry yells were nothing more than flies. It might be the most wonderful sight of your entire life.

You run up to him, unable to stop yourself from spending a single second not by his side now that you have him for real.

“You came!” You say, delight spiraling through the syllables.

“Of course I did,” Wyatt replies, “did you really think I could ever leave my girl without a date?”

You laugh. “Not if you had a say in it. Although, not that I’m sad to see you, but I swear you didn’t have any say in this at all.”

Wyatt gives an easy shrug. “I’d like to see them stand in my way. Change doesn’t happen through silent compliance, you know. Sometimes you have to stand up for what you believe is right, and I know this is right.”

You beam at him. “I’m just glad that you’re here.”

Wyatt smiles back at you. “I’m glad to be here too. Trust me.”

He pauses a moment, then taps the necklace hanging in the hollow of your throat. “Although I am glad to see that you wore that even without knowing I’d be there.”

You follow his line of sight and understand what he means. Wyatt gave you a moonstone necklace identical to his about a week ago. You’ve treasured it ever since. When you found out that Wyatt wouldn’t be able to come to the school dance, it only made sense to bring some part of him there in his stead. In your opinion, the moonstone necklace did perfectly. It’s good to know that Wyatt agrees.

“I just wanted to feel like I wouldn’t be alone here,” you whisper.

Wyatt takes your hand. “Of course you’re not alone.”

He starts to guide you towards the groups of dancers in the center of the room, but the two of you have only begun moving when he stumbles. Wyatt is excellent at keeping up the charade of perfect health in front of most people, but you see straight through it and realize that he’s not nearly as infallible as he usually claims to be.

Eyes alight with worry, you reach for his hand. “What’s wrong? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

Wyatt grins weakly. “I don’t think that’s the best compliment you’ve ever paid me, but I’ll take it as a sign that you care about me.”

Your eyes narrow. “Wyatt. An explanation would be nice.”

Wyatt sighs. “Alright, alright. We still can’t find the moonstone and it’s wearing on all of us. Look at Wynter, she can barely stand. We’re here as a show of strength, but we’ve got almost nothing left.”

You must look horrified, because he squeezes your hand and tries to stand up straighter. “Look, it’s alright. There’s nothing we can do about it anymore, and I’d rather have this night with you be worth something than spend the next few hours wondering about some mystery we can no longer solve.”

You pull him close under the guise of starting a new slow dance. “Just stay with me, Wyatt.”

It’s a promise neither of you can expect, but Wyatt agrees with it anyway. “Always.”

He starts to say something else, but his words are cut off by a loud cracking sound issuing from the ground nearby. It seems almost like thunder, but there are no storm clouds in sight. Instead, what you find is a massive divide splitting the ground nearby in half.

Addison finds you in the chaos, Zed right behind her. “It’s an earthquake,” she says, “Look, the ground is completely hollowed away underneath.”

Your brow furrows. “It looks almost like a tunnel.”

Wyatt nods slowly, eyes wide. “Yeah, and it’s glowing. Like a moonstone.”

Willa pushes her way through the crowds to reach your party, Wynter right behind her. “You guys are seeing this too, right? There’s no way the moonstone isn’t down there.”

Bree claps a hand over her mouth. “What are we going to do?”

You extend a hand towards the fissure in the ground. “Find the moonstone, obviously. We have to move fast, though. I don’t know how much time you guys have left.”

As if to prove your point, Wynter doubles over in a fit of coughs that leave her shaking and spent.

Wyatt nods grimly. “Let’s move.”

Thus your group descends into the earth in search of a mystical power source none of you truly know will be there. The only thing you can do at this point is hope that it will be here, or this trip with the werewolves might be their last.

In the end, though, you don’t have to fear. Zed manages to clear away some heavy rubble and you stumble upon a partially collapsed room, moonstone intact in the center. Wyatt and the other werewolves race towards it, and you swear you can practically see them come to life again as their moonstones are recharged. Wyatt turns back to you, triumphant, but as you watch his smile drops in an instant.

He holds up a trembling hand to point at the necklace he gave you. “Y/N, your moonstone. It’s glowing.”

It makes no sense, but you look anyway and he’s right. The small shard of stone at your throat is a bright pearlescent shade, and sends refractions of light dancing over your skin.

“That makes no sense,” you try to argue, “it should only glow if I was–”

Your words are swallowed up abruptly by the shock of your realization. Wyatt finishes the thought for you anyway, although it’s kind of pointless. Everyone in that room is thinking the exact same thing.

“If you were a werewolf,” he concludes.

You shake your head slowly. “No, that’s impossible. I would know if I were a werewolf.”

Willa shrugs. “I mean, your town didn’t even know about werewolves until we showed up. Surely it’s not that impossible to assume that you wouldn’t figure it out until now.”

Wyatt shoots his sister a look, muttering something about a poor bedside manner under his breath, then extends a hand to you. “We can test this. Come here, see if you can charge the necklace.”

You may not trust whatever is going on with your necklace and the moonstone, but you do trust Wyatt, so you take his hand and allow him to lead you over. You press your necklace to the moonstone just as he did. The second you do, you feel this rush of something wash over you. It feels like power. It feels like coming home.

Wyatt whistles under his breath. “I think that means you’re a werewolf.”

Addison nods. “Your eyes are glowing just like Wyatt’s. It’s true.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Well, this really wasn’t the way I was expecting tonight to end.”

Wyatt’s eyes fill with concern. “But you’re not unhappy about it, right?”

This time, your voice is more sure. “No, I’m not. This is a good thing, Wyatt. A very good thing.”

And why would it not be good? This means you have a pack, an entirely new family to stand behind you when you need it most. You have your boyfriend, you have a fascinating future opening up in front of you. No, you could not be more happy.

disney tag list: @rogueanschel, @lovesanimals0000, @thatfangirl42, @amortensie

435 notes · View notes

goodnightmemes · 9 months

Text

THE TUDORS SEASON TWO SENTENCE STARTER (PART TWO)

s02e06 - s02e10

❛ Will you come to my bed tonight? ❜

❛ You are marrying into a great family. You will do it, whether you like it or not. Do you understand? ❜

❛ Something's going to happen to me. ❜

❛ Don't talk like this. Nothing is going to happen to you. ❜

❛ I'm unable to give a King a son; a son to be the living image of his father. ❜

❛ It's all right. Everything is going to be all right. Please don't cry. I love you. I'll look after you, I swear. ❜

❛ I like you and enjoy your company. But you have a reputation: you gamble and you whore. You sail close to the wind. God forbid it should ever blow you onto the rocks. ❜

❛ I have no doubt what so ever that Your Majesty's reign will always be remembered. ❜

❛ Are you amusing yourself at my expense? ❜

❛ I swear to you it will never happen again. I love you too much. I have no right to ask you to believe me. But it's true. ❜

❛ Is she one of your mistresses? How many do you have? What are their names? ❜

❛ Here's the truth: you must shut your eyes and endure like your betters have done before you. ❜

❛ How can you say that to me? Don't you know that I love you a thousand times more than [name] ever did! ❜

❛ Don't you know that I can drag you down as quickly as I raised you? ❜

❛ This is lucky you have your bed already, madam, because if you did not, I wouldn't give it to you again. ❜

❛ Listen to me. You're the Queen! For the love of God, act like it! ❜

❛ At least seem happy. Not a heap of misery! ❜

❛ It's been tasted. It's not poisonous. ❜

❛ I am not "your dear". I am nobody's "dear!" I am a woman and I demand equal respect for my ideas! ❜

❛ Why are you here? To see the degradation that we have been forced to? ❜

❛ You may kiss me. Then you will leave me alone. Forever. ❜

❛ Anyone can see that the King is not so much in love with her as he used to be. ❜

❛ All this time and you're still in love with her! ❜

❛ Let me look at you. There you are. I have not seen you for so long. An eternity. And here you are! ❜

❛If I had a son, it would bring about a golden world. ❜

❛You ought to be careful, or I will have you cropped at the neck. ❜

❛ I did not bring you up to have opinions or to express them or to quarrel with those closest to the Crown. ❜

❛ I am carrying the King's son. We are on the edge of a golden world! ❜

❛ I'm certainly aware there are some at court who would like to see the queen replaced. ❜

❛ I was married before and I must confess, I rather like the liberty of not being married again. ❜

❛ You have just come from another's bed. No. Do not deny it. ❜

❛ Sometimes, my love, I think that with you I'm already condemned to live in purgatory. ❜

❛ His heart is very weak. I don't know if he will come back to us. ❜

❛ In such a crisis, all could disintegrate. So the centre has to hold, and we must hold it. ❜

❛ You know, I cannot think whether it would be a bad thing or a good thing if he died. ❜

❛ As Lord Protector, you would ipso facto...be King, ❜

❛ Though you are still a young man...you're not as young as you used to be. ❜

❛ I'm so happy you're well. I was so alarmed, so afraid. ❜

❛ It was a mistake to think I could behave like I used to. In any case, those carefree days are gone. ❜

❛ In the future, I won't see you unless your other family members are present. I just had to see you now. ❜

❛ What is this? Just when my belly is doing its business...I find you wenching with Mistress [name]! ❜

❛ You've lost my boy. I cannot speak of it. The loss is too great. ❜

❛ I see now that God will not grant me any male children. ❜

❛ You have no one to blame but yourself for this. ❜

❛ Because the love I bear you is so great...it broke my heart to see you loved others. ❜

❛ It's true what they have whispered. I shut my ears to them, but now I know it to be true. ❜

❛ I will treasure this all my life. And if they ever open my grave, they will find it again, right next to my heart. ❜

❛ You have overreached yourself. Believe me, you have placed yourself in very great danger. ❜

❛ Do you assume I no longer possess the power to crush you? It would be an easy mistake to make. ❜

❛ The king cannot satisfy a woman. He has neither the skill, nor the virility. ❜

❛ We have come so far. No one is going to be allowed to destroy us. No one. Do you understand? ❜

❛ I think we should drink a toast to new beginnings and to new friendships and to a mutually beneficial future. ❜

❛ If your master wants to deal with me, he must first apologize for all his ill treatment of me in the past. ❜

❛ Princes are different from us and are not to be easily understood. ❜

❛ It's come to my notice that some acts of treason and other offenses have been committed by those we loved and trusted. By members of our own court. ❜

❛ I want to tell you in this slippery world, you represent for me all that is innocent, everything that is good, unsullied, uncorrupted. ❜

❛ If anything should happen to me...will you promise to care for my daughter? ❜

❛ Please. For the love you bear our child, have mercy. ❜

❛ After everything we've been to each other. After everything we were. Please. One more chance. ❜

❛ My enemies have poisoned the air with their horrid lies. ❜

❛ I pray God will help me, for there is no truth in these allegations. ❜

❛ Sometimes, in order to defeat evil, one must learn to consort with the devil. ❜

❛ When am I to die? ❜

❛ My lady, I am obliged to tell you that your marriage to the king has been declared null and void. ❜

❛ Tell them to ready the horses. But tell no one of our destination. ❜

❛ I hear you say I will not die before noon. I am sorry for it, for I thought to be dead by that time and past my pain. ❜

❛ Yes, I heard the executioner was very good. And in any case, I have only a little neck. ❜

❛ Have you ever killed someone? What did it feel like? ❜

❛ I would really like to see someone die. Can I go to the execution with you? ❜

❛ I want her dead. I want it over with. Finished. Go and do it or, by God's blood, you will join her. ❜

❛ I swear to you, from tomorrow, everything will be different. We will be young and merry as we used to be. ❜

❛ If you would take my advice for what it's worth find a rich man to marry who is too stupid to know anything about politics. Then perhaps - unless you die in childbirth, which is likely...or the plague, which is almost inevitable - then you will be happy. ❜

❛ Forgive me. It's just that I so much want a new beginning. A renaissance. Sometimes it is hard to be reminded of things. ❜

❛ Tell me, was it all worth it? ❜

#rp meme #sentence starter meme #sentence starters #inbox memes #roleplay prompts #roleplay meme #rp prompt #royalty meme #period drama meme #*tv #*tudors

72 notes · View notes

airas-story · 1 year

Text

High Stakes

It was the highest stakes game of rock, paper, scissors ever played.

Or at least that was what Peter and the Cloak would have him and Stephen believe.

“You got this Peter,” Tony said, trying desperately not to laugh as Peter climbed onto the back of the sofa and perched there as though that would make him more of a threat.

The cloak seemed very much unthreatened, only floating higher to match Peter’s new height, while making a dismissive gesture in Tony’s direction at Tony siding with ‘the opposition’.

“I got this,” Peter repeated. “I’m going to win.”

Tony leaned over toward Stephen. “What are they even playing for again?” he asked. He’d somehow missed that part of the explanation when he’d come in to see Stephen moderating an argument between Peter and his cloak before finally demanding that they work it out in some less loudly-aggressive way—how the cloak had managed loudly aggressive was a mystery to Tony, but he wouldn’t put it past the cloak.

Hence the game of rock, paper, scissors.

“Who gets to choose the movie tonight.”

Well, that told him about where this night was going to end up going, then. Neither the cloak nor Peter were particularly inventive when it came to movie choices. “So either Star Wars or Aladdin, then?”

He suspected that the cloak had a crush on the carpet, which… weird, but then people got crushes on characters all the time, it was generally the same principle.

“Pretty much,” Stephen said. “But Wong is bringing cheesy popcorn.”

Tony wanted to know where Wong found this cheesy popcorn, because it was heaven on a popcorn kernel, but Wong was being frustratingly closed-mouthed about it and very smug in his superiority.

“Do you think he’d tell me where he gets that stuff if I offered to marry him? I wouldn’t even make him sign a prenup. He’d come out great in the divorce.”

Stephen looked at him, unimpressed. “If it weren’t for the fact that you are you and thus… very you, I’d be very concerned about my fiancé making moves on my best friend. As it is, you are not Wong’s type and he’s still on his ‘attachment to the physical is detachment from the spiritual’ kick, so your money is safe.”

Life was so terribly unfair.

“I’m everyone’s type.”

“You two are being distracting,” Peter complained. “This is serious, I can’t be distracted.”

Tony rolled his eyes, but mimed zipping his mouth as he leaned against Stephen and watched Peter and the Cloak both shake themselves out and get into form.

The way they were acting it looked like it was a national sporting event and they were going for the championship.

“Ready?” Peter asked. The cloak nodded. “Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!”

Tony glanced between the two, laughing when he realized that they’d both chosen rock.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!”

Paper.

Peter narrowed his eyes at the cloak while the cloak made a ‘I’m watching you look’ at Peter.

“Rock, Paper, Scissors, shoot!”

Rock again.

Okay, and now that was just suspicious.

“How long do you think this is going to take?” Tony asked Stephen quietly.

Stephen groaned, leaning his head back on the top of the couch and making a despairing face at the ceiling. “Probably until we agree to watch both movies and be done with it.”

Those conniving little—

“We should never!” Peter said as he and the cloak both landed on scissors.

Conniving sneaks.

Fifteen ‘whoops, we did it again’ later, Tony finally agreed that they could watch Aladdin and then one of the Star Wars movies.

He pretended not to see Peter and the Cloak give each other a high five.

#ficlet #ironstrange #supreme family #i don't know #I just wanted to write a snippet #fic

70 notes · View notes

annoyinglandmagazine · 11 months

Text

You were never the one to suffer

Summary: Elrond goes on a bit of a rant.

Elrond was striking a pummel aggressively down his sword, a sword which he should not have had that night and Thranduil was very confused as to how he’d hidden it under such a sheer gown. He did not acknowledge Thranduil’s presence instead continuing with his task while staring out at the lights that flickered in the city below.

‘Do you have any idea of what you did in there? My father is not going to let something like that go, there will be repercussions for your king, why I’d be surprised if he didn’t fire you from his staff for this! Why you decided it was anything but egregiously offensive to wear that brooch tonight I could not begin to fathom, but the least you could have done is show respect to Ada’s perfectly reasonable response rather than lose your temper like that!’

Elrond acted as if he had not heard a word of this tirade and when he spoke his voice was soft and clear with a sharp cut to every carefully enunciated word, punctuated by the rhythmic slam unto his blade, a far cry from the passionate indignation that had bled through his words while speaking to king Oropher. ‘You know,’ his face was concealed by a curtain of black that must at some point have been pulled out of its braid, ‘when I was younger I thought there was something wrong with me. That there was some reason that I wasn’t deserving of the kind of love that children are meant to get, the all encompassing love that comes before all else. My parents may have been good people, and I cannot judge their decisions, but I find it hard to believe that someone who considered their children their highest priority would have left them in the position my brother and I were left in. I know I couldn’t have done that to any children of mine even if it were the right decision.’

He turned now and his voice began to shake with anger while tears began to slip past his lashes and onto his cheeks, ‘I try to understand and be aware of other people’s experiences but I was six and I would have died if I wasn’t lucky that Maglor was in a charitable mood and that he found us first. I should have died at six because my life and the lives of countless other innocents were considered collateral damage in a war over a fucking shiny rock by my own mother when she held onto that silmaril. And I still try to empathise with and love her and my father because they might have been right.’

‘I loved them to! I loved the kinslayers! They were monsters but they were there, they raised me, taught me, loved me but I still came second to those rocks! Because I’m never going to be enough! For anyone. I’m going to keep trying to be every age of this world, but people will always leave me. Because I’m too fragile to be a reason to stay. And don’t you dare try to tell me you know shit about how I should feel or deal with any of that because you don’t. You don’t and neither does he. And neither do I but I have more of a right to make a mess of it than he does.’

#silmarillion #tolkien #elrond peredhel #thranduil #oropher #elwing #earendil #maedhros #maglor #elrond has abandonment issues #Like serious abandonment issues

55 notes · View notes

chaoffee · 8 months

Text

Sleeping Troubles

Characters: Kazuha x gn reader AU: Canon Warnings: ooc perhaps (I'm not used to writing for Kazuha) , semi-proofread , other than that none Word Count: 482 Notes: third entry for the ebg hosted by @i23kazu ( @yinyinggie )<3 I'm gonna be honest, this one took me a while to finish...why? Because I was staring at the screen buffering for majority of it. Was this written in comfort to me? ...yes. I apologize for the abrupt ending, I didn't know how to end it ;; idk how to add the read more on computer •○— You were tired to say the least. It’s been an exhausting few days. You were all getting everything ready for when you reached Liyue Harbor. It’s been a while since you’ve been able to walk on solid earth, you couldn’t wait to stretch your legs outside of the ship. But the mental and physical toll has started to catch up to you, influencing your sleeping schedule. You’d think that sleeping on a big ship that rocks with the sea in its constant rhythm would help you fall asleep more easily but all it’s done is make you more aware of the constant rocking at night instead. You’ve been tossing and turning more than you’ve been sleeping. Tonight, being no different. You let out a sigh, feeling frustrated at yourself for simply not being able to fall asleep. Maybe a walk around the ship would do you some good. You got out of the bed you share with a certain ashen blonde wanderer and made your way outside of your room. The ship can be rather quiet at night when the sailors and passengers aren’t enjoying the night with good food and drinks. You got to the deck of the ship and took in a lung full of the salty sea air, feeling yourself starting to relax. It didn’t take much wandering on the deck for you to stop by the railings and watch the dark, glistening ocean. The sounds of the water hitting the bottom of the ship, quieting your thoughts. “Couldn’t fall asleep?” A soft, familiar voice asks, startling you slightly. You turn your head towards the voice, letting out a shaky breath, “You gave me a bit of a scare there, Kazuha…” Kazuha smiles apologetically as he walks up to you, turning to face the sea. “I didn’t wake you on accident by leaving, did I?” you ask, guilt tugging at you. Kazuha shakes his head, “I was not roused by that, it was your lack of absence that woke me.” You sag into yourself, “Sorry…” Kazuha looks at you, seeming to take you in, in your entirety. “You need not be sorry for something you have no control over,” his fingers take yours, interlocking your hands together, “Besides, I woke up on my own accord and came to find you. Nothing to fret yourself over.” You nod solemnly, “Alright…you don’t have to stay here with me. You should get some rest before we get to Liyue.” You smile slightly, “I’m hoping you’ll keep me company on a trip around the Harbor.” Kazuha smiles softly, giving your hand a light squeeze, “I’d gladly accompany you through the Harbor, just as I’ll accompany you here now if you’ll allow me too.” “I don’t mind you staying, but it might take a while before I’ll go back to the room…” “No matter, the moon has yet to set, giving us enough time.”

#chaoffee fics #genshinblr october ebg 2023 #astronetwrk #genshin imapct #genshin imagines #genshin x gn reader #kazuha x reader #kaedahara kazuha

37 notes · View notes

privateanxieties · 10 months

Text

forget my mercy, take my blame (chapter 4)

Summary: You are the same person you were a week ago, only now presenting as you truly are: hiding nothing, free of struggle. With your back to the sun and him before you, your eyes are black and resolute.

Words: 2.6K (graphic depictions of violence)

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

SERIES MASTERLIST

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

What do people think about in their final moments?

You assume it depends on the amount of time they have, as well as the manner of death. People have disagreed on the subject of an afterlife for as long as they've been able to contemplate it, but the moment of death itself has seldom been the focus of debate. Of all the myriad ways that things can end, when the line is crossed and the numbers are tallied, you suppose anyone would say that all death, each one that has ever been and ever will be, is either violent or lucky.

If there is struggle, there is violence. If there is not, a person is asleep, much like Sam is as you peer down at him.

It's been interesting, this night, but as dawn looms over the horizon, your mood darkens almost in revolt. You can neither do this the way you would have back at the house, nor summon enough derangement to keep him in storage until nighttime returns in a little over seventeen hours, even if the setting permits a bit of mania. The desert looms over Tule Valley, shadowed by white rocks to the North and shapely knolls to the South, a barren nothingness stretching out for miles. Yes, nobody will find you here. No, you will not drag this out any longer. You already shot one more man tonight than you were planning to, though admittedly it was his own fault.

Frank.

You don't know what he was talking about, but hell if you cared to listen. The instant that he blocked that door with his body, your finger squeezed the trigger it had been glued to since you'd laid eyes on him. Served him right for sticking his nose in other people's business. If he'd just been a misguided stranger, you'd have let it go. Clearly, a few too many screws were loose in his head too, but he underestimated just how many were rattling around in yours. The answer was: enough to shoot him in the shoulder and take his van into the desert, with Sam out cold in the back like he'd said. At least he didn't lie about that, because you'd have gone back to shoot him again.

The dark sky gives way to a crack of indigo in the far distance, and you push off the van's back door to approach the man lying on the ground several feet away. Given he's still wearing his server uniform from the diner, you guess Frank must've nabbed him after his shift. There's no visible injury on his person besides a little redness around the clavicles, indicating knockout via strangulation. Good — at least he won't be woozy from head trauma, because you'd like to talk to him.

His face is plain, forgettable to anyone that isn't you. Twenty-two years old and not going to get any older. You scoff at his terminal stupidity. Having this much power over someone's life should come with a degree of somberness, but you're tired and cranky from hauling Sam out of the van and dragging Frank away from the door. You've done more manual labor than intended tonight, and it's not like you've had much sleep in the past week to begin with. You spare another look at Sam's figure, cheek pressed into the ground and breathing even. Nap time over.

You don't have a knife, so you resort to grasping his left pinky and pressing down on the nail bed until he stirs. It takes around a minute for him to awaken fully, by which time you've stood up and retrieved your gun. You move a few paces away. For a moment you wonder what your face must look like, but Sam isn't close enough to catch all the nuances in your expression as he blinks at you with furrowed brows. He coughs twice but finds his voice pretty quickly.

"Who the fuck are you?"

Maybe your face is forgettable too.

"Where the fuck am I?" he demands with a weak cry, voice hoarse from the treatment his neck received. He tries to get to his feet, but he barely turns onto his side before you let off a shot near his shoulder.

"Don't get up, Sam."

The gesture yields the intended effect. He stops and scrambles onto his back, scooting away from you on his heels and elbows as his body kicks up dust. You point the gun at his head, silently commanding him to stop moving. He does. You close the distance to what it was before. Sam glares up at you, but he hasn't had the time in his short life to build up any menacing qualities. There's still some roundness in his face from delayed puberty, because while his documents say twenty-two, the man in front of you looks barely eighteen. Some people just look younger than they are.

"What do you want?"

A hint of the stutter he had the first time you met him returns for that simple question. It's not one you've personally ever asked when finding yourself in similar situations in the past. No reason to play stupid and waste everyone's time. You raise an eyebrow.

"You don't know?"

A look of recognition passes over his features as he studies you, but where you expect fear or nervousness, something akin to vexation appears instead. His lips curl upwards. He's displeased and ready to make it known.

"Look, I passed my fucking test! Tell Emi I'm ready. He doesn't need to do this shit no more," he snarls.

New information. Hm.

"So you don't know me," you say vaguely, studying him in return.

"The fuck do I care who you are? What, are you some new bitch he's fucking this month? It ain't gon' last, I tell you that. Just do whatever he said to so I can go home. Got enough shit on my plate."

There's delayed puberty of the brain too, it seems. He hasn't caught on that you are not who he thinks, but interestingly, the person he thinks you are is expected to behave the way you do. He's been manhandled, kidnapped and brought to the wilderness to stare down the barrel. He does so in defiance, not an ounce of fear in his eyes. Tests. Readiness. Emi.

You put some fear right into his kneecap.

Sam howls his agony into the expanse of the desert as the bullet tears through cartilage and exits through soft flesh. He grabs at his leg with both hands, rocking forward several times as if to get up. He's yet to understand that he'll never use that leg again, you think, because he does try to scramble to his feet again. It's haphazard and desperate, but it grants him valuable knowledge: he falls back on his ass in a stupor, looking at his body and trying to understand its betrayal. He can feel the pain, yet he can't feel anything below the knee.

"Are you a good listener, Sam? I can tell you're not a good observer. Maybe we can change that," you say evenly, waiting for him to register your words over the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He looks up at you and yowls something fierce. From what you can see in the awakening darkness, there are tears gathered in his eyes. The fire burning in them is different now, defiance waning.

"My brother's going to fucking kill you!" he screams. It travels along Tule Valley with its dips and mounds, only to be swallowed up by the sheer expanse of nothing. He has found out who you are not. Now, to refresh his memory.

"You should be more concerned with what I'm going to do, to tell you the truth."

He fumbles over the hole in his knee and wrestles with control of his ligament to no avail, and if you bear witness for a minute or two, it's not something you're ashamed of. A long sigh folds your body into itself as you crouch down to his level, keeping a knee on the ground for stability. Sam's whimpers have lost some of their intensity, and for a moment you watch him watch the blood that flows from his leg into the reddish sand, creating black splotches in the low light that resemble the ones on your front door. The desert is much colder than your neighborhood.

"I've hurt some people," you tell him, commanding his attention before he goes into shock. He lifts his eyes to your face, and suddenly he looks like even more of a child than he did before. You nod both to yourself and him in the wake of your statement, as if to confirm you've really said it. Truths uttered inside a wasteland can be bent into unflattering shapes by something as inoffensive as a breeze.

"I have. Nobody that didn't deserve it, I promise you that. But I've never done this before," you continue, head tilted with a frown. "I've never let anyone go who I knew I shouldn't."

"I don't know what you're talking about, you crazy bitch! Look at what you did to my fucking leg!"

His voice is scratched, not yet broken.

"You've hurt some people too, haven't you? Only, they were good people. Right?"

The spell of dry wind descending from the white rocks to the North has travelled a long way to encounter you both, howling through the valley with a final effort to leave its mark on the wilderness. Its tendrils are harsh and nearly icy right before dawn, sending one last caress through the realm that will soon be transformed under a ball of fire.

A flicker of recognition arises in the man's face again, and this time, he really sees you. In the absence of synthetic light, he sees your face from the same distance he did at the bakery, same hairstyle, same plain clothes. You are the same person you were a week ago, only now presenting as you truly are — hiding nothing, free of struggle. With your back to the sun and him before you, your eyes are black and resolute. You think of nothing and have no decisions to make.

Clarity is good.

The steel feels cold against your hand as it reaffirms its grip on the Kimber, but the trigger burns its shape into the crook of your index finger. You breathe. You pull.

Silencer long detached, the true sound of oblivion rings out over planes and burrows into crevices, a responding hum finding its way back to the source as if the earth itself knows it has just become a tomb. You rise to your feet. A healthy adult man will take a long while to die with just one shot to the chest. That's alright. You want him to have all the mercy of the world he created.

Four steps carry you to Sam Collins, who's a hair removed from shock. Chest rising and falling uncontrollably, it gives way to spasms and sputters both felt and heard as his fists pound the dirt against their will. The sporadic whistling produced by his lungs barely hits your ears for how delicate it is. Most of the gray of his shirt has been chased away by gravity luring his blood into the hungry earth, never to relinquish ownership. You find yourself peering down at his wide eyes and puffing cheeks and slowly get flooded with a sense of impending disquiet.

He shouldn't get to see the sky. He shouldn't get to watch the sun rise over his last day and make the stars disappear by casting light upon them. The oranges and purples of a desert sunrise aren't for him to witness when others only get the rigid monotony of wood and steel, an endless night trapping them inside darkness before it swallows them whole.

You wonder what he's thinking between gasping breaths and choked words. In theory, he wouldn't be thinking about anything but survival. Only if he has accepted death staring down his path can he start contemplating other things, but Sam is still young for the amount of time he has left. Youth is defiant, unafraid. It holds out the longest in the face of calamity. As he so clearly proved, youth is barely even capable of recognizing death. It either flees in the face of it or it falls quiet.

Sam has done both. As he looks at you and you look back, there's no telling what you'll remember of him and this moment in another nineteen years, no use in searching for clues. Whatever your mind will latch onto is outside all control. What it knows of Mark Davidson is a look like a demon's and a fury like God's, and you buried them both under rock without spectacle or prejudice what feels like a lifetime ago. You remember fuel and heat, a thundering slide of earth and gravel.

What you'll remember of Sam could be wind, just as well as it could be silence. It could be pleading eyes or a childlike face. Whatever memory will be kept, you bear witness to his struggle against ample tranquility. He's crossing over into darkness as the first rays of sun slither along the dessicated ground and towards his face, but just before his eyes are kissed by the morning light, the fire within them burns out. You remark on the color in peace. They're green.

Clarity is good.

The downside of being undisturbed following a murder is that you aren't really sure what to do with all your clarity. The last time you did this you were behind the wheel of a stolen car too, but back then you had the benefit of mental turmoil. You weren't thinking about much more than getting away from that quarry, weren't feeling anything but guilt and fear and a pervasive sense of biblical doom.

Now, you're maybe a little restless. Maybe a little inconvenienced. Overall, once you're done getting rid of this van and the coyotes are done getting rid of Sam's body, you don't know where you're going to plant your feet — besides Frank's dash, that is.

Going back to your house is out of the question right now. You're not in Utah— you're in sunny California, staying with relatives and recovering from last week's events. Showing your face so soon will raise eyebrows on faces that you aren't likely to see again anyway, so there is little point in swinging by. You will have to eventually, if you want a clean break. Few things today can't be done remotely if money is no issue, but you sprung too many roots in that town and now have to sever them yourself.

One of them is staring back at you from the phone you've just turned on for the first time in seven days, a written update from Eliza with a photo of Piper and Mae attached. The pair of rose-ringed parakeets are snuggled together on what looks to be a desk cluttered with psychology homework. You're not surprised they've taken to her so quickly as to be comfortable outside their enclosure. Eliza is a good, caring person and as gentle as they come. You don't reply to her text.

Sifting through the flurry of notifications and emails from purveyors with whom you'd unexpectedly suspended contracts, your eyes catch on one message that is neither inquiry nor update. It's an alert from your home security system, encrypted and blinking impatiently for it to be acknowledged. It is.

Only some forty hours too late.

-to be continued-

A/N: No Frank in this one again, sorry! But we'll get plenty real soon, and we might even get some other people we know👀 Please let me know your thoughts, I love reading them and freaking out over this story with you!

Taglist: @itwasthereaminuteago @hellskitchenswhore @theradioactivespidergwen @trashyart-y @its-me-ya-boi-lisa @marieloves-reading @daisyslibrary @trashcan-writes @mind-nine @reblogmisc3 @hufflepufe @this-is-where-i-keep-my-fic

Note: If you'd like to be tagged, reblog the previous chapters or the series masterlist! You have to interact with the story if you want to keep getting tagged for updates.

#frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #frank castle smut #frank castle imagine #the punisher x reader #frank castle fanfic #frank castle

45 notes · View notes

girl8890 · 2 years

Text

Project Partners | CH 6

Pairing: Loner!Jungkook x Popular!Reader

Summary: Jungkook has always been a loner. Only having one friend that barely even lets him get a word out. College should be flying by with the type of life he’s living. But every time he sees one girl, in particular, it seems like time slows down. Now that a group project has been assigned, and no one is allowed to pick their partners. What will Jungkook do now that he has to work closely with the girl he’s madly in love with for the next three months?

Warnings: anxiety ongoing tag at this point, class project (ew), rude teases, masturbation (m), dirty imaginations, suggestive pictures, sexting, suggestive texts, thoughts about past sexual experiences

BTS ML | Index | CH 7

。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。。・°°・°°・。

Instead of answering your question and being honest about his sexual experience like a mature adult, Jungkook runs. He leaves all the project supplies, only taking his phone, and leaving you to stare after him as he runs out your door.

Jungkook can already feel the tears fall from his eyes as he leaves the dorm’s front doors. Feeling beyond embarrassed, shocked, and even guilty now that he’s realized he just ran out on you after you blew his mind with your hands and mouth. He groans into his hands, ignoring the other students that pass him while walking into the dorm.

He can’t believe what just happened. He can’t believe what you just did to him, and what he just did in response to your very simple question.

Are you a virgin?

Never mind. It’s not that simple. The answer is, at least. Since it’s true, that he is still a virgin, but to admit that to the person he’s been wanting to give that card to since he first learned what sex was, he felt an overwhelming amount of shame. What if you don’t like him anymore because of it? Or worse! What if you never want to see him again because you’re too embarrassed to be near a perverted virgin like him? A guy that let you touch and swallow his dick who doesn’t even have the experience to recuperate!

So many of these overwhelming, and anxiety filled thoughts bang into Jungkook’s brain as he walks to his dorm in shame. He swears everyone knows that he’s a virgin now, and that he ran out on the first girl that rocked his world sideways. He tries to keep his head down, and shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. Trying his best not to imagine everyones stares that are actually just looking at him because he has no shoes on, and not because they can someone read his mind.

He feels his phone vibrate against his hand inside his pocket, but he doesn’t have the strength to look at the oncoming text until he gets back to his dorm.

Ryan is there to greet him. The guy is currently typing away at his computer, probably finishing up an overdue essay, when Jungkook walks in. He looks up from his laptop when he sees his red faced friend, and has a knowing smirk on his face.

Does every know too! Is there smell to it? Why hasn't Jungkook smelt it before?

“You lost your v-card, didn’t you?”

The panic in Jungkook’s expression lessens when he realizes his roommate doesn’t somehow magically know, and that he’s just, in fact, an idiot.

“No, dude. Tonight was a bust,” Jungkook explains as he get into bed and buries his face into the pillow like a child. Ryan just rolls his eyes, not wanting to hear about all the ways Jungkook could have fucked up with you until after he’s done with his paper, but before eh resumes his paper he lets Jungkook know he has no shoes on.

Jungkook looks at his feet and huffs our his frustration. When he ran out of his room, he forgot to put his shoes back on, so now he realizes that’s most likely why everyone on the university campus was glancing his way.

Jungkook feels his phone vibrate in his pocket again, and with an annoyed groan he takes his head out of the pillow then takes his phone out of his pocket to see who was texting him. His eyes light up when he sees your name light up in black bold letters on his lock screen. Showing that you were the one that texted him earlier, and just now.

He sits up in his bed, not taking his eyes off the screen as he thinks of all the possible texts you could have just sent him. Jungkook being Jungkook, thinks you’re texting him death threats at first, but then he realizers that you’re you, and you would never do that.

With a shaking thumb swipe to the right, he opens up your messages. Two simple texts that make Jungkook’s mind swim with so many newfound questions.

{6:03pm} Y/N - I’m guessing that means yes.

{6:24pm} Y/N - Did you not like my treat? 🥺

Before Jungkook could stop himself, his first question that drilled into his mind after reading your texts was typed out and sending through the cloud.

{6:25pm} JK - How could I not?

Once he sees what he texted, he smacks himself in the forehead. Hard. What a asshole thing to say! Well, then again, what else could Jungkook say in response? Thank you? Is that a not weird thing to say when a girl asks you if you liked her going down on you?

Before Jungkook could type out a bunch of apologies, a responding text of your own comes in.

{6:25pm} Y/N - good 😘

Not only does that winky, kissy face make Jungkook blush like the shy bean he is, but the fact you’re not saying anything else right now dawns on him. You aren’t belittling him for being virgin, or making him think you’re going to run away from him because of it. The thought of you running away brings back Jungkook’s guilt from earlier. Because he did leave you. Left you on the dorm room floors like an asshole that just let a girl go down on him then left. Because that’s legit what he did to you!

He wasn’t trying to be rude, but the second you asked your question he needed to leave that space as soon as possible before an anxiety attack could happen. His flight or fight response kicking in, and using flight before even considering just saying yes! Fuck, he’s so stupid.

{6:26pm} JK - I’m sorry for leaving.

He doesn’t regret apologizing, but he does feel embarrassed for having to explain himself next.

{6:26pm} JK - Your question just took me off guard, and I was afraid you would laugh at me.

{6:27pm} Y/N - For what? Being a virgin? I didn’t think you thought so lowly about me kookie 😥

He’s about to send an another big apology, and say he would never think that way again if you were to stay being friends with him. But before he could regret doing that, he gets another text from you.

{6:27pm} Y/N - I’m kidding! I can sense your anxiety from here kook LOL

Jungkook breathes out a sigh of relief. Thanking all the gods above for letting him fall in love with someone as easy going as you. As the texting conversation continues, mostly just about the project and snide bites of getting to know one another, Jungkook realizes how lucky he really is.

No more then a month ago, he was the nobody that was ignored by everyone around him. His life felt like is was going by too fast, but it was only when you appeared in front of him that it allowed him to enjoy even the small moments the world let him have. Now even moments with you are running by fast.

He’s getting to know you as a person, and not just what he’s heard through other’s or witnessed from the sidelines. Each interaction with you always brings up something new. Like how you have insecurities--that was the biggest shocker so far--or how you hate the color orange... or, or how your favorite holiday is Halloween! All of these things and more he’s found out from either working on the project with you, or even through text like this.

Something Jungkook is even finding is going a lot smoother for him now. He’s not regretting any texts, or taking too long to text back from overthinking as the conversation stretches. But one thing, that he thinks no matter how long he’s been talking to you for, that he will become a complete mess about no matter what is when you flirt with him.

A few texts ago you two were talking about something as simple as how you both hate grapefruits (out of all things!), and one text that was accidentally to suggestive from him turned into this...

{7:00pm} Y/N - I think that mole you have is so cute! I just want to lick it 👅

Jungkook nibbles on his bottom, and then glances at his roommate to find him still concentrating on his paper. Jungkook then adjusts his position so that the screen is only pointed at him and the wall, then replies back.

{7:01pm) JK - I don’t think it’s that cute.

{7:03pm} Y/N - Everything about you is cute! Did you look at yourself in the mirror today?

Yes. Many times before leaving to go see you earlier, but Jungkook doesn’t mention that. Instead he bites his bottom lip so hard he swears it starts to bleed before he finds the confidence to text you back with...

{7:04pm) JK - I think your way cuter.......... 🙈

He watches the text bubble start up, then disappear. Start up, then disappear. He’s so close to having a panic attack about it, but luckily you save him from any misfortunes.

{7:06pm} Y/N - OMG KOOKIE! even through text you have a way with words!

{7:06pm} Y/N - Such a flirt 😍😍😍

{7:06pm} Y/N - I can do you one better, though... you and me... together like we were today again...

You then send a bunch of suggestive emojis including the eggplant emoji, meanwhile Jungkook is trying his hardest not to imagine how your were earlier. When you were looking up at him through your eyelashes, biting your lip as you stroked him with experienced hands. Hands that are way smaller than his, but some how felt so much better.

Right when he’s able to to get the image of your touching his dick out of his mind, the image of your mouth being on him surfaces. He’s been able to keep the image out of his head for only an hour, but he knew it would resurface sooner rather than later.

The way your mouth surrounded him so easily. The feel of your wet, and warm mouth, as well as how you slurped him right up. The erotic noises of when your mouth glided down his length, and you taking every last inch of him. For an experience that lasted less than thirty seconds, it was the best thirty seconds of his life!

He hisses when he presses down on his rock hard cock in his tight jeans. An erection sprouting from his dirty imagination of what happened earlier today. Glancing up at his roommate again, the guy doesn’t even look away from the computer when he hears Jungkook hiss. Jungkook’s gears start to turn, and he thinks now is as good as time as any to not be in the room with Ryan. It doesn’t take Jungkook a lot to want to jerk off, especially when it comes to you. These are also not just hypothetical thoughts surfacing in his brain, either. These images happened.

With the last water spray emoji by you, and a groan of annoyance by Ryan when he finds a spelling error in his paper, Jungkook stands up from his bed and makes a beeline for the bathroom. He’s lucky enough to be one of the few on campus who have their own bathroom connected to their room, and Jungkook shuts and locks the door behind him as he enters the small cubical.

Sitting on the lidded toilet, Jungkook open ups his messages with you again.

{7:11pm} JK - 😶‍🌫️

{7:12pm} Y/N - Just an emoji, huh?

{7:12pm} Y/N - Did I affect you that much big boy?

Jungkook rolls his head back and sniffles a groan, thinking about you saying those exact words to him in person.

{7:12pm} JK - You’re killing me, y/n

{7:13pm} Y/N - Am I now? My big boy can’t handle a little flirting?

Jungkook takes a few minutes, thinking about what to respond back with, but just when he goes to type something out you send him something that makes Jungkook almost literally die.

{7:17pm} Y/N - Let see if you can handle this then 🙈

{7:17pm} Y/N - IMG_428

“Fuck...”

Jungkook drops his phone once the picture downloads. Having him scramble to pick it up so he can ogle at it again.

He’s seen you in bikinis before, but what you’re wearing in this picture is nothing close to a bikini. The lace bra and pantie set are the smallest undergarments he’s ever seen on a person. It only just covers up your nipples and pussy, but the white material gives little to the imagination of what those body parts look like.

Jungkook strokes his now leaking cock though his jeans, eyes burning from not being able to take his eyes off the photo. He realizes after a few more seconds that he hasn’t texted you back yet, so he quickly responds with...

{7:20pm} JK - wow

{7:20pm} JK - your beautiful

{7:22pm} Y/N - such a sweetheart you are!

{7:22pm} Y/N - can I see you 🥺

His in awe feeling suddenly plummets when you ask him this question through text, and he swallows the lump in his throat when he glances at the mirror. He’s let very few people see him without a shirt or pants on, and those few are usually people of the same sex and while changing before and after gym in high school.

You did already see him without his pants on... but also, what if you don’t like what he has? Jungkook thinks he could just die--like an actual heart attack-- if you don’t like what he looks like underneath his shirt. Granted, he does work out from time-to-time, but what if what the little he has compared to the joke you were with doesn’t interest you?

Jungkook shakes his head after that last thought. Not wanting to think about the fucker that broke your heart. He can’t deny you picture. Not after you just sent him one he’s debating saving into his phone forever. To keep for later days that he’ll be in this same predicament he is in now--hard and dripping with precum.

With one last look at the photo you sent him, he grabs onto the confidence that’s been resurfacing a lot these days and walks up the bathroom mirror. He takes off his shirt, angles the camera so his face isn’t in it, and then snaps the picture.

He cringes when he sees it, but after another few minutes of debating weather or not to send it, adding a black and white filter because you did the same in your photo... he presses send.

*this photo is not the real Jeon Jungkook*

One minute passes. Then the next. And because you love giving him heart attacks another whole minute (three overall) pass before you text him back.

{7:38pm} Y/N - THAT...

{7:38pm} Y/N - that right there I would love to munch on 😍

{7:38pm} Y/N - you got me so wet, baby

He drops his phone again, and this time his pants go down with it. The mixture of your photo still being viable on his screen, and your dirty talking about being wet for him was the last straw. His last restraint breaking before he just couldn’t take it anymore.

His hands wraps around his freed cock, and he hisses when his own hands touches it. Jungkook really tried to push back, to not be the stereotypical guy, but he’s lost this battle because of you. A few words and your photo being all he can see and read as he jerks himself off with earnest.

Within minutes he’s cumming into the sink, images of you being the one touching him flooding his mind as he does. He wonders if he would be able to last if you two ever went all the way, and that thought has a few more spurts of cum coming out of him.

He bites hard on his fist not wrapped around his cock, and groans against it to cover up any sounds for his roommate’s sake. He could give a shit less right now if Ryan knew he just jerked off to you right now. The pictures and dirty texts on his screen right now are enough proof that anyone would have lost a battle of restraint against you.

Not that he would ever show anyone these texts or images. No, these pieces of content you gifted him will be for his eyes only. Jungkook has never shared his password with anyone, and no one besides Ryan has ever tried--and failed-- getting into his phone, anyway.

After Jungkook has regained breathing normally, and wiped himself and the counter clean of any proof of what he just did in this small bathroom, he opens your messages again. His fingers running on autopilot, and he won’t know how this next text he sends you will change his life forever until the next day...

{7:58pm} JK - Can I see you tomorrow?

CH 7

𝕥𝕒𝕘 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: @petalsofink

#project partners #project partners chapter 6 #chapter 6 #jungkook x reader #jk x reader #shy!jungkook x popular!reader #loner!jungkook x popular!reader #shy!jungkook #loner!jungkook #hes such a little shy bean!#xxx content #nearing the end #nearing what you've all been waiting for!!!!!!!#hehe #jungkook smut

229 notes · View notes

dizzzydancin · 1 month

Text

Step On Me- A John Dory-centric Fanfic

hai again :3 heres chapter two of this fic, it's on ao3 if anyone's interested in that

cw: drug use (i dont know how drugs work)

Rock Your Body- Chapter 2

If anyone learns anything about John Dory, it's that sometimes he doesn't fully think things through. This is how he ended up at this insane party full of trolls he barely knows and the music is so loud that he swears he needs earplugs to listen to.

It's not that he didn't want to be here; quite the contrary.

An old friend, Darnell, had invited John to a party he was hosting towards the top of the Troll Tree and begged him to come on a count of JD always being “overworked and stressed," quote on quote. John wasn't going to go initially; he had responsibilities now. There was no way he could just leave his siblings to take care of themselves!

Alas, upon hearing of John’s invite to the party, Floyd had insisted he go.

“You deserve a break. You never do anything fun!" Floyd points out, which makes John Dory huff out a sigh.

“You don't understand, I can't just leave you boys alone. It's just not right, especially not after…" John trails off, ready to stand up and leave the conversation when he feels Floyd grab onto his wrist.

“You know we're old enough to take care of ourselves, right? We aren't babies anymore, JD.” Floyd laughs but can tell John is still hesitant, and maybe a little hurt.

John bites his lip before nodding, finally agreeing to go to Darnell’s party. Maybe he did deserve some time for himself.

Which is how he ended up here, with a drink of something he can't remember in his hand and suddenly bumping into a taller, dark-blue troll.

The blue troll spins around, long, red hair whipping around with the same intensity the rest of him does, and staring into his fierce eyes makes John Dory nervous.

He takes a step back, only to bump into another troll behind him, who seems to be too busy dancing to even bother looking at him.

“Sorry, didn't see you there!" John yells over the music, putting on his best smile to make him look even the slightest bit more confident.

The other troll stares at him for a second longer, looking him up and down before turning right back around, and making his way through the crowd of trolls to what seems to be the kitchen. Man, that's a relief; John wasn't sure he was trying to fight anyone tonight. This was supposed to be a freeing night for him! And so far it's going pretty awful.

With a loud sigh, JD makes his way through the crowd of trolls just as the dark blue troll had done moments prior, but instead of heading to the kitchen, he leans against a far wall that seems to have the least amount of trolls accumulating near it. John finally feels like he can breathe now that he's not shoulder-to-shoulder with every troll in the pod.

Man, he must look like a fucking loser.

He takes a sip of his drink, quickly being reminded that it's a soda of some kind, and starts thinking of how the hell he can get out of there without being seen by anyone he might know. It seems like an asshole move; he knows he should say goodbye to Darnell, as he was the one who invited him in the first place, but it just seems like too much effort to John who feels like he's been bit by a bus.

Before he can make his escape, the dark blue troll from earlier slides back into the room. He stands out amongst all the other trolls with his long, flowing red hair and heart-shaped chest hair that's weirdly enticing to JD. He doesn't even realize he's staring at the poor fellow and only realizes when it becomes all too clear that this troll is heading in his direction.

Shit, maybe he should have gotten out of here sooner.

By the time John turns around to leave, the blue troll is somehow standing right in front of him, and he bumps into his broad chest with a thump.

John quickly reels back, trying to avoid bringing a black eye back to show his siblings the good time he had.

“Listen, man, I didn't mean-" John begins, throwing his hands up and accidentally sloshing his drink over his gloved hand in the process.

The blue troll sticks out his hand, putting on a friendly smile that makes John's gut feel gooey.

“Chaz." That is all the troll says. What an introduction.

John hesitates, staring at Chaz’s hand before using his non-sticky hand to shake it. “John Dory."

As if Chaz couldn't get anymore weirdly attractive to JD, he bows his head, kissing the back of John's hand and peering at him through his lashes.

“Your name is unique, I like it."

The compliment has John's heart soaring, and a cheesy grin spreads across his warm cheeks.

“Thanks! I like your hair.” John compliments Chaz back, feeling it was the only right thing to do.

"Hmm, thank you, dear.” Chaz rumbles from deep in his chest.

The tone Chaz puts on makes John feel like there are millions of little butterflies fluttering around in his stomach, and it's weird at first, but JD thinks he likes it.

Chaz takes a step closer to John, leaning down right in his ear. The proximity makes John feel weak, and his face flushes almost immediately. Part of him wants to grab this troll's face and study every part of it, but that would be so weird, right?

“I think I know how to make your night a little more fun. Are you up for it?" Chaz whispers to John, who nods excitedly.

When Chaz pulls away, he begins digging through his pocket, which John watches closely. Dude, this guy is jacked, and fuck if it's not hot.

A small package of what looks like candy is pulled from Chaz’s pocket and handed to John, who dumbly stares at it. Okay, not what he was expecting.

Chaz seems to sense his confusion and shakes the package to catch John's attention. “Come on, just try it. I promise you won't regret it." Chaz winks and hands the candy over to John, who finally takes it.

Still skeptical, and now a little weirded out, JD takes the candy and rips open the package. It's a little ring candy, it seems, and it's blue, probably blueberry. After another bought of hesitation, John brings the candy to his mouth and takes a couple of licks across the outside.

“You'll thank me later." Chaz brushes his hand across John's hip, bringing his other hand up to take a lick of his candy, which is red. Has Chaz had that this whole time? How did he not notice that earlier?

Before John could ask what Chaz meant, he felt as if he had entered another plane of existence.

The packed room was stretching and expanding at will, even other trolls' faces became distorted and odd-looking, some of them even changing colors! Oddly enough, John Dory wasn't frightened by any of this, how could he be when his body felt so buzzy and alive? He couldn't help the laughter bubbling in his chest, the wild grin he had spreading quickly across his face. God, he'd never felt so alive!

Chaz seemed to be a bit more experienced with this sort of thing, it seemed since he wasn't as phased by the candy. Instead, he was looking down at JD, his smile quickly building.

“Care to dance?" Chaz purred in John's ear, which earned him an enthusiastic, “Hell yeah!" in return.

Don't be so quick to walk away

Dance with me

I wanna rock your body, please stay

Dance with me

The music was loud, but no longer did JD feel the need to cover his ears and shield himself from the noise. He instead embraced it, throwing his hands clumsily in the air and swaying his whole body to the rhythm. John could no longer remember why he was so anxious, now dancing alongside a hot troll whom he'd only gotten the name of not even five minutes ago.

While John was throwing his body around to the music, Chaz was swaying his hips, keeping his arms mostly by his side. He was more focused on keeping an eye on his new friend, making sure he didn't wander off too far or get into any trouble while under the influence. Deep down, Chaz had a feeling that John had never done anything like this before if his cute confused face from before was any indication.

I don't mean no harm

Just wanna rock you, girl

Make a move, but be calm

Let's go, let's give it a whirl

As the party came to a close, trolls slowly made their way out of the pod and stumbling their way back home, Chaz was guiding John to the exit as well. It was late, the moon glowing high in the sky, and they couldn't stay here all night even if they wanted to. Chaz had become quite infatuated with John Dory, and even though he would love to stay with him a bit longer, it seemed like a better idea to get him home.

“Come on, dear, it's time to get you home." Chaz hums, pushing John Dory towards the pod’s door.

“Nooo!" John whined back, throwing his arms around Chaz’s neck, “The party is just getting started!"

Chaz’s laugh rings through JD’s ears. "Quite the opposite, love. Let's go."

John Dory groans, letting go of Chaz and stomping out of the pod.

He's so cute when he pouts, Chaz thinks, smiling softly as he follows behind the grumpy troll.

“Don't be like that, darling. It's getting late, you know." They're holding hands now, fingers intertwined with one another. When did that happen?

“Can I walk you home? I don't want you getting hurt.” Chaz offers, to which he gets an enthusiastic nod of agreement from John, who begins to vaguely remember the direction in which his pod is.

They walk in silence for a bit. It's a comfortable silence, though, not a silence that either of them feels needs to be filled with mindless banter. Of course, with John Dory being John Dory, he talks anyway.

“Haven't seen you around before." He comments.

“No? I live that way." Chaz points behind them, and John assumes he lives past Darnell's pod.

“Ohh, yeah that's probably why. I usually stay home anyway." John shrugs. It's kind of sad to admit, really, but he has people to take care of, he can't just up and leave out of nowhere.

Chaz nods. “Kids at home?"

“Sort of. My brothers."

The conversation trails off after that, Chaz not wanting to pry into his acquaintance's home life, and John not wanting to have to explain his life story to an almost stranger.

Before they knew it, both trolls arrived back at John's pod, which seemed dark from the outside since it was late and all the lights were off. His brothers should be asleep by now, at least he hopes they are; he's still feeling a bit loopy, and doesn't feel like running into any of them.

“This is my stop." John jokes, turning around to face Chaz.

“Will I see you soon?" Chaz smiles at him.

John just shrugs. There's no way to know what tomorrow brings, not with the way he's living. With that, John turns away and heads into his pod as quietly as possible to not wake his sleeping brothers, leaving Chaz alone on the branch in front of his home.

When JD walks inside, he's pleased to find everything is right where it should be. Except for a stray shirt on the couch and a bottle of juice on the coffee table, everything was spotless. He's impressed, to say the least.

As quiet as he possibly can with his clumsy feet, he walks to his bedroom, slipping his shirt off on the way there. When he gets inside, he shuts the door and throws his shirt into a corner of the room, never to be seen again.

As he collapses onto his bed, curling up on the slightly lumpy mattress and pulling a few stray blankets over the top of him, he closes his eyes, falling asleep with a stupid grin on his face.

If he has a dream about a certain dark blue troll with beautiful red hair, then it was nobody else's business but his.

#trollsbandtogether #john dory #trolls #chaz trolls #ao3 #fanfic #trolls fanfic #floyd trolls

7 notes · View notes