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leclerc-hs · 1 month

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wait for your love - cl16

pairing: arranged marriage!charles x fem!reader summary: in which you're in a fake marriage OR you and your fake husband might be in love with one another warnings: none?? no smut in this part (SORRY), badly translated french (pls correct me), NOT PROOFREAD!, angst, pining???, jealousy, complicated feelings word count: 3.6k author's note: I'm still unsure how i feeeeel about this one but I tried my best!! I think writing about an arranged marriage is a little hard because i didnt want it to be mafia related so this was my take on it. there will be a second part!! i also want to mention that all these separate parts are just events that are little peaks into their marriage. it is not in the span of a week or anything, it takes place over time. they do not go from nothing to being in love in the span of one week. just wanted to make sure you guys were aware of that LOL. ok love u all. sorry if this sucks.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THE MARRIAGE WAS merely a façade, designed solely to serve the interests of both of your media images. You weren’t in love—far from it…right?

“Charles! How are you and the beautiful Mrs. doing?” A reporter placed a microphone in his face, an eager grin pulled on his lips as he awaited an answer.

“Elle est tellement merveilleuse, n’est-ce pas?” She’s so wonderful, isn’t she? His gaze strayed from the reporter to where you stood a few feet down the carpet, posing for the dozens of cameras. “Tellement belle.”So beautiful.

His eyes remained transfixed on you, the rest of the world fading into insignificance as he watched you approach. The chatter of the reporter beside him became distant background noise, overshadowed by the sight of your radiant smile. With each step you took closer, a surge of warmth flooded through him, causing his heart to swell with an overwhelming sense of anticipation. Charles turned back to the reporter just as he said “Looks like she is making her way over here!”

“Salut beau gosse!” Hi handsome! You gently press your lips to his cheek, the warmth of your smile radiating as Charles’ face lights up upon feeling your kiss. His hand finds its place on the small of your back, a comforting and possessive touch that speaks volumes of his affection and protectiveness towards you. A united front.

“You guys are seriously too cute!”

The both of you smile largely at the reporter, thanking him, before heading down the carpet to enter the movie premiere.

It wasn’t until you crossed through the main doors of the building that you drop the smile, and his hand drops from the small of your back.

“Tellement crédule.” So gullible. He utters the words briefly, prompting a nod from you before you take a small, deliberate step back, putting some distance between the two of you.

You learned early into the arrangement that Charles wasn’t capable of love. His heart seemed barricaded behind the walls of his ambition, his sole focus on climbing up the ladder of success in his career. It seemed easy at first though, it’s not like the either of you had any feelings for each other.

“Assez!” Charles roared from behind his imposing oak desk, his voice echoing through the room. “That’s enough!” His words cut through the tense atmosphere like a thunderclap, commanding your attention and halting any further discourse with an authority that brooked no argument.

With a subtle roll of your eyes, the delicate sundress draped over your form swayed gracefully with each purposeful step towards his desk. His gaze, cold and piercing, met yours as you reached out, your fingertips lightly grazing the polished wood surface. Leaning in just slightly, you locked eyes with him.

“Je vais me répéter une fois de plus,” I will repeat myself once more. You declared, your tone carrying a hint of assertiveness. Tracing the edge of the desk with a meticulously manicured nail, you maintained your composure, refusing to yield under his scrutinizing stare. “You need to be more careful in public.”

Your cheeks flushed red with frustration, a stark contrast against the determined set of your jaw. Despite the tension, Charles couldn’t help but be captivated by just how stunning you appeared in that moment. He couldn’t tell if he hated you or just wanted to fuck you.

He scoffed before reclining back in his chair, the top buttons of his shirt carelessly undone. His tousled hair appeared as if he had run his hands through it a dozen times—or perhaps someone else had.

He watched as your eyes traced along his disheveled hair and the partially undone buttons of his shirt, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Jealous, mon ange?” He teased; voice laced with amusement. Now it was your turn to scoff.

Mon ange. Him and that stupid nickname.

“Jamais.” Never. You replied firmly, your tone leaving no room for doubt as you turned around. With a subtle sway of your dress, it raised slightly, offering him a glimpse of the lace set beneath it. Without another word, you walked out of the room, leaving him to ponder just how badly he wanted to remove that dress from your body.

He always resented how you seemed impervious to his charms. No matter his efforts, you remained aloof, seemingly untouched by his presence. It bothered him to no end. To him, you were an epitome of perfection, a constant reminder of his own shortcomings.

“Es-tu affamé?” Are you hungry?

You didn’t care if he was. You just needed to distract yourself from the fact he never came home last night. From the fact that he came home obviously smelling like another woman.

The marks on his neck had your throat feeling tight. Marks from another woman. Marks on your husband.

You tried your best to ignore the dark purple marks littered on his neck, and the tiredness in his eyes as he plopped down on the chair across from you. The umbrella in the center of the table, protecting you both from the bright sun as you sit beside the pool.

“Non, simplement fatigué.” Just tired.

You nodded slowly, your movements languid as you bit into a strawberry, its juices trickling carelessly past your lips and trailing down your neck in a sensuous cascade.

Charles couldn’t help but allow his gaze to follow the path of the juice, his eyes tracing its journey down your neck, almost reaching the enticing curve of your breasts.

You made no effort to wipe away the trail of juice, the glistening droplets lingering on your skin like a tantalizing invitation. With a knowing smile, you relish in the anticipation, fully aware of the effect it had on Charles. Men, they’re too easy.

“You should cover up those marks.” You bit into the rest of the strawberry, before standing from the table, preparing to dip into the pool. Charles hands reached out as you walked by him, his fingers dipping into the strings of the bikini bottoms at your hips.

His touch seared through you like a branding iron, leaving a scorching trail of sensation in its wake.

“Est-ce que ç ate derange?” Does it bother you? He looked up at you, his face serious.

The words felt like lead in your throat, heavy with unspoken truth. It didn’t bother you, did it? But deep down, it gnawed at you like a persistent ache, an undeniable discomfort you refused to acknowledge.

“No.” You attempted to push out of his grip, to no avail. “Lâche-moi.” Let go of me. He didn’t.

Never, is what he wanted to say.

“What’s wrong?” He questioned; his eyebrows scrunched as he looked up at you from his chair.

Your hands slipped around his wrists that rested on your hips. “Rien ne va pas.” Nothing is wrong. He cocked his head to the side, as if to say liar. You finally pull out of his grasp, walking towards the pool and jumping in.

End of discussion.

“Did you really need to eye fuck her the whole night?” You half-shouted in the passenger seat of his car, the cool leather seats contrasting with the warmth of your bare thighs clad in the mini skirt.

“Did you really take that guy’s number?” He half-shouted back, his hands gripped tightly on the steering wheel.

“What’s wrong with taking his number?”

There was nothing wrong with taking his number. You both agreed you can date other people if it was kept under the wraps. But despite the coolness of the leather against your skin, it did little to quell the agitation simmering within Charles.

Perhaps it was the rarity of you into dating others. It wasn’t that you couldn’t attract men; in fact, men often vied for your attention. Rather, it was your own inclination against one-night stands that set you apart. Charles concluded in that moment that this must be the reason for his discomfort. And considering you had finally shown interest in someone, did it imply he was special?

“Tout le monde remarque!” Everyone noticed! He spat out the words, unable to conjure a coherent response in his frustration. Deep down, he knew there was nothing inherently wrong with simply exchanging numbers.

You laughed, a carefree melody that seemed to dance through the car, causing you to lean forward over your lap. The casualness of your reaction grated against Charles, intensifying his frustration. How could you be so nonchalant about accepting another man’s number? The knot of unease in his stomach tightened, gnawing at him with a persistence he couldn’t comprehend.

“So?” You turned towards him; his eyes were focused solely on the road. “It’s not like I fucked him in front of everybody.”

Charles head snapped briefly towards you; his eyes narrowing with sharp intensity. The mere thought of you being intimate with another man felt like nails scraping against a chalkboard, setting his teeth on edge with raw, visceral discomfort.

Why was he so bothered? It’s not like he doesn’t fuck other girls.

“Où vas-tu?” Where are you going? You found yourself stood in the archway of the kitchen; Charles leaned against the kitchen island with a glass of water in his hand.

His eyes trailed down your figure, a short black dress that hugged your curves. He felt his patience wearing thin as he watched you engrossed in your phone screen, fingers tapping away and a large smile on your face.

Who were you texting?

“Hm?” You said, still smiling down at your screen. “Où vas-tu?” He egged on, his tone dripping with impatience at your lack of an answer.

“Oh, j’ai un rendez-vous.” I have a date. You tore your gaze away from the screen for the first time since you came downstairs. Lifting your eyes, you met Charles with an infectious smile spreading across your face. The sheer warmth and joy emanating from you caused Charles’s heart to momentarily falter in its rhythm.

A date? He felt sick.

Charles remained silent for a few moments, his grip tightening around the glass in his hand betraying the turmoil within him. The sudden crash of the glass hitting the kitchen floor startled you both, causing a shared flinch as shards slid across the tiled surface.

“What about my event tonight?” He disregarded the broken glass around him, his attention consumed by the word “date” echoing relentlessly in his mind.

“Pretend I’m sick or something,” You tilt your head in confusion. “You’ve gone to events without me before.”

It wasn’t until you went to make a step towards the broken glass that Charles snapped out of it. “Don’t come near, tu pourrais te faire mal.” You could get hurt.

The words made you stop in your tracks and your heart clench slightly.

“Je dois y aller.” I must go.

Your eyes meet Charles one last time, you offer him a small smile before pulling your phone to your ear and answering it with a smile.

Leaving Charles alone in the kitchen, the lingering question of when this feeling would dissipate hung heavily in the air.

“Je ne veux pas que tu partes.” I don’t want you to go. He muttered to nobody but himself in the empty house.

You went on a relentless series of dates since then, each time returning home with a grin that seemed to mock Charles. He longed to wipe that smug smile off your face, but deep down, all he truly desired was to see you genuinely happy. Yet, the idea of your happiness being derived from someone else filled him with a sense of dread he couldn’t shake.

One night, Charles felt his sanity slipping as he anxiously waited for your return, each passing minute amplifying his restlessness. Was this what you did when he was away?

His unease peaked when you finally walked through the door well past noon, wearing a smile that seemed out of place and with your hair tousled, a stark departure to your usual pristine appearance. A faint, barely perceptible mark gracing your collarbone served as Charles’ triggering a tumult of emotions within him.

“Did you fuck him?” His voice was gruff as he walked up to you by the front door, essentially cornering you between the front door and his body.

Your eyes widened at his tone and question.

“Cela ne te regarde pas!” That’s none of your business! You shouted, your finger pressing into his chest.

His eyes blazed with fury, the green in them almost appearing black. “C’est tout à fait de mon affaire!” It’s all of my business!

He was aware of his irrationality, but despite that knowledge, he couldn’t shake the overwhelming emotions stirring within him. All he wanted was for the burning ache in his chest to subside.

“Ce n’est pas juste.” That’s not fair. You countered, your narrowed eyes reflecting your simmering anger, your chest flushing red with frustration as you breathed heavily.

“Tu es ma femme.” You are my wife. He folded his arms firmly across his chest, the sinewy muscles of his biceps straining against the fabric of his shirt, emphasizing his imposing presence.

You rolled your eyes, “C’est faux.” It’s fake. The words almost hurt to say aloud.

“Is it?” His words were short as he looked down at you, his gaze unfaltering, almost begging you to admit that there is something between you two.

“Oui.”

You pushed past him, rushing up the stairs and slamming your bedroom door shut.

You didn’t always fight though. There were good and bad days. Almost like a real marriage, right?

“Mon ange, wear the blue one.” His voice came from a distance as he sat on the edge of your bed, surrounded by the chaos of your closet. You felt a sense of panic wash over you, unable to find solace in any garment you tried on. You couldn’t even decide on a color.

“You always look good in that one, yeah?” He continued; his tone almost absentminded. Despite your turmoil, his words elicited a small smile, causing a faint blush to rise on your cheeks. Grateful that he couldn’t witness your reaction, you silently thanked whatever higher power existed. You vowed never to let him see you blush from his words.

You stepped out from your closet a few moments later, the blue silk dress that left little to the imagination of your breasts, with a small thankful smile on your face. Charles felt his hands itching to touch you as you leaned over the vanity, applying a last coat of lip gloss.

“Prête?” Ready? You turned back towards him, the small pebble of your nipples poking through the thin fabric, a sight that momentarily arrested Charles’s attention. With an effort, he tore his gaze away, clearing his throat discreetly before nodding in response and leading you out the house.

“Pourquoi cela?” What is this for? You quickly ask about the purpose of tonight over the low murmur of the radio as Charles pulls into the valet area of the event.

“It’s for charity,” He swung open his car door, the faint sound of camera clicks filling the air in the moment it remained ajar before he swiftly closed it again. With a sense of urgency, he hurried around the car to open your door, his movements a flurry of activity as he sought to ensure your comfort.

Tonight, he remained steadfastly by your side, his attention solely focused on you, his wife. He didn’t allow his gaze to wander, even as other females vied for his attention with near desperation. It was a departure from his usual behavior, as if he finally decided to listen to your complaints.

“Tu es magnifique.” You look beautiful. He muttered into your ear, his words meant for you alone, shielded from prying cameras. It caught you off guard—a genuine compliment, untainted by presence of the reporters or observers.

“Mon ange, regarde tes cheveux!” Look at your hair! Charles laughter filled the kitchen, reverberating off the walls with a hearty resonance. It wasn’t long until you joined in, your laughter mixing with his in symphony. The sight of both of you covered in flour from your baking rendezvous added a touch of whimsy to the moment, the white powder dusting your hair like a playful snowfall.

You stepped closer towards him, a playful pout forming on your lips, while he looked down at you with a twinkle in his vibrant green eyes. The intensity of the green hue in his eyes was so striking that it caused your stomach to flutter with nervous anticipation.

You noticed his eyes briefly flicker to your lips before meeting with yours again. A silent ask.

His flour dusted fingertips rested against your jaw, holding your face in the palm of his hands, while his eyes flickered to your lips again.

“Laisse-moi t’embrasser, s’il te plait.” Let me kiss you, please. His words were so quiet, as if you both were secluded in your own bubble. You didn’t answer as your eyes trailed all over his face. As if you weren’t sure if you heard him correctly.

“Ne me fais pas supplier.” Don’t make me beg.

He could feel the rapid pace of your heart, almost beating out of your chest as he uttered the words. You nodded in response, but before you could even finish the nod, his lips crashed into yours.

It was anything but gentle. As if, you both had waited years to be able to do this without a camera in your presence.

His tongue slipped into your mouth almost instantly, eliciting a soft moan that escaped your lips and melded with his own. He groaned in response, his arms encircling your waist to draw you closer, pressing you flush against his chest before guiding your back against the messy countertop. One hand found its place against the nape of your neck and jawline, holding your head in place with gentle insistence. Meanwhile, the other hand tenderly played with the ends of your hair before wrapping them around his fist, holding your hair firmly yet tenderly.

“Si doux.” So sweet. He murmured against your lips; his breath warm against your skin as he continued to savor the moment.

Your hands instinctively wrapped around his biceps, holding him close, though he showed no inclination to pull his body away from yours.

His lips trailed along your jawline as he pulled the ends of your hair, lulling you head back to give him more access to your neck. Another soft moan left your lips, escaping into the kitchen, as he sucked on the spot where that mark once was.

“Drive me crazy, mon ange.” He muttered against your skin, peppering kisses along your neck, along your jawline, until he met your lips again with a soft peck.

Your eyes met his and you could’ve sworn you would’ve dropped to your knees right then and there for him.

The distant ring of a cell phone was heard in the background, immediately causing you to push him away from you. Your cellphone.

You looked at Charles with a sense of panic. What were you doing?

As if Charles could sense that panic, he brushed off the pain with a small smile. “Tu devrais répondre à ça.” You should answer that.

You didn’t see Charles for a few days following the kiss.

“Que fais-tu ici?” What are you doing here? Charles eyebrows were furrowed as he took in your figure standing before him, an unnamed bag in hand.

You shook the bag in your hand, “Déjeuner.” Lunch. You waved the bag around like it was no big deal. Like you didn’t come all the way to Maranello to bring your fake husband lunch.

You found yourself unsure of the exact reason behind your actions, yet you did it anyways. With Charles away for the past few days, leaving you alone at home, a peculiar sense of longing seemed to linger in the air. Though you refused to admit it outright, all indications hinted at a quiet, yearning for his presence that you got so accustomed to over time.

“Tu n’avais pas besoin de le faire.” You didn’t need to. A smile pulled on his lips as he slung his arm over your shoulder, grateful for the sight of you.

“Je m’ennuyais.” I was bored. You confessed with a shrug, a hint of sheepishness coloring your tone.

He pulled you into an empty room, wordlessly. Instructing you to take a seat as he grabbed two waters from the nearby fridge.

“Comment se passe le travail?” How’s work? You asked, although your inquiry was more out of habit than genuine interest. Since the kiss, you found yourself at a loss for how to engage with him, unsure of how to navigate the shifting dynamics between you two.

He chuckled softly, choosing to settle into a chair beside you rather than sitting across from you, as if he wanted to be close to you. “Tu m’as manqué.” I missed you. He confessed quietly, his tone revealing a vulnerability he rarely displayed with you.

The tips of your ears flushed with a rosy hue in response to his confession, a shy smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze softened as you reached into the bag, delicately arranging the food on the table before him, each movement infused with a tenderness that spoke volumes.

“C’est bon.” It’s okay. He muttered, a silent acknowledgment passing between you two. “I know you missed me too.” A smirk pulled on his lips as you shoved his shoulder half-heartedly.

You didn’t deny it.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc fic #f1 imagine

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bet-on-me-13 · 2 months

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Ghost Zone Breakout Au

So! Danny is missing. Maybe it's a Vivisection AU and he ran away, maybe he got trapped by one of his Rogues, either way, Danny is gone and his Rogues are free to spread across the planet.

Walker in particular has an interesting adventure.

After Danny trashed his Prison and broke Wulf out, people realized that it wasn't as impenetrable as he made it out to be. And what's an army of Immortal Criminals to do when given all the time in the world? They test each and every method they can to break in or to escape.

Danny's actions caused a Domino Effect that lead to Walkers Prison being torn apart from both the inside and the outside. He lost his Territory, his Power, and most of his Guards. So he decided to start again in the Mortal Realm.

And he found the perfect New Haunt.

Arkham.

He's never seen such a sorry Prison in his AfterLife (It's an asylum). Criminals breaking in and out every other week, no prisoner staying for longer than a month at most, and nobody is doing anything to fix it.

He needs to remedy this.

So one night, he and his Army of Ghostly Guards attack the Prison. They Overshadow whatever guards are on Duty, take control of the Prison Systems, and Initiate a Total Lockdown.

Walker then sends out a Message.

"People of the Mortal Realm. I an Warden Walker, the new Head of this here little Prison. We have seen how terrible this sorry excuse for a prison is, and decided to take it upon ourselves to fix it. From now on, we will be the Guards of this Arkham. Send your prisoners here, and they will stay here. Try to break in, and you will never leave. Try to force us out, and you will join our undead Ranks. This is not a Negotiation, this is not a Request, this is an Announcement. If you have a problem with this, then I will be happy for personally meet you. I am in need of new employees after all."

After this message, many tried to stop him, but none were successful. He didn't seem to understand that a Prison is meant to hold Prisoners for a determined amount of Time, not forever. Or that it wasn't a Prison in the first place, it was an Asylum to treat the mentally ill.

The Bats could do anything either. Any time they tried to take back the prison, they were beaten back by the Possessed Guards and Ghostly Guards patrolling the grounds. And they didn't want to hurt the Hostages.

They needed a solution, so they got to digging.

Apparently they weren't the only ones who were dealing with Ghost Related Issues. All across the world, powerful Ghosts were claiming large areas of land as their new Haunts, weaker Ghosts were running Rampant in the spaces in between, and JLD was being run ragged as they tried to help wherever they could.

It was a worldwide issue, and they needed to find the Cause.

After a lengthy investigation, they found that all the Ghosts originally came from one Place. A small town in Illinois where they had been trying to break into the Mortal Realm for years, but they had been stopped by another. A Ghost who protected the Mortal Realm from the powerful Spirits of the Dead.

If they had any hope of containing this threat, they needed his help. They needed to find Phantom.

#Dpxdc #Dp x dc #Dcxdp #Dc x dp #Danny Phantom #Dc #Dcu #Ghost Zone Breakout AU #Danny is missing #Idk where he is yet #Walker took over Arkham #After Danny proved that his prison was fallible they Ghosts of the Zone ripped it apart like piranhas #He lost his Haunt and needed a replacement #Walker isn't the only one #I'm hoping to make more of these later with the other Rogues #Ideas?

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parvuls · 8 months

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no, because - famous person starts dating less famous person and is then gradually overshadowed is a trope. a trope often used to bring external conflict into stories. but jack and bitty are carefully constructed as the opposite of that, and I'm fucking feral over it.

we joke about how jack will eventually be bitty's trophy husband and be thrilled about it, but it definitely has a giant grain of truth in it. it's how they're characterized. bitty is an extrovert; jack is an introvert. bitty reached out and built himself an online audience to deal with his trauma; jack shut himself out and started avoiding the public to deal with his.

bitty finds comfort in being able to talk to others and (as seen in spotlight on eric bittle) considers being a public figure a sort of healing experience: coming out and being a public person (in every manner of speaking, not just sexuality wise) and putting himself in the limelight is such an important part of his journey because he sees it as a way of helping others who were in his situation.

jack grew up in the spotlight as the only son of two prominent figures. he grew up as a child with anxiety with the media's eyes on him as he was compared to his father. he grew up as an overweight teen featuring in trashy gossip columns as he was compared to his mother. he got into rehab in part because of this attention and it only attracted more attention to him. a lot of jack's anxiety stems from the notion of people looking at him and thinking about him and talking about him and judging him, and it's unfortunate because jack's dream is to play hockey, and that comes with even more attention.

but that's the thing: jack and bitty's story is (once again) a demonstration of two people making each other's lives better.

jack's fame thrusts bitty into the spotlight post-cup, and it's a giant push forward in helping him reach a bigger audience and thus grow his independent fame. bitty's growing fame slowly overshadows jack, to the point where ngozi says they'll one day be Eric Bittle and his Athlete Husband. and that means jack gets to play hockey, and win cups, and achieve fame in his own field, but the media's attention slides off him to his husband, and the fans on the street gradually approach bitty more than him, and jack is free to have his success with less of the personal scrutiny.

it's not that jack becomes less important than bitty. it's that bitty gets to stand in front of the direct sun and flourish as a result, while jack gets to stand in the shade bitty creates and flourish as a result. it's symbiosis. it's beautiful.

#omgcp #omgcheckplease #zimbits #watch me write this post as the into to my three part essay series:#Enough Talking About Bad Bob; Let's Talk About Growing Up As A Conventionally Unattractive Child Of A Model/Actress #I genuinely don't understand how ugly baby jack and fat teen jack aren't talked about more #do NOT tell me fatphobia did not affect jack's childhood. I simply do not believe it for a second #anyway zimbits are the true love blueprint they invented healthy relationships etc. etc.#meta #text

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rkistars · 2 months

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ʙᴏꜱꜱ ᴍᴇ ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ! - ᴘ.ꜱʜ

sypnosis ☆ being the secretary of one of the most respected and successful CEO kinda sucked because all he did was overwork you and ignore you. and to get a raise, you have to pretend to be his wife for a week and you have to live in a hotel room with him but with one bed.

was this a bad idea?

genre ☆ boss! sunghoon x secretary! y/n, fluff, angst, only one bed (I can't help it)

warnings ☆ kissing, lower case intended, both of them are kinda mean lol, slightly suggestive at the end, cursing,pinterest links to imagine the scenario better lol,includes photos but not a smau!

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one ᡣ𐭩 park sunghoon’s introduction.

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on your first day at work. while most of your colleagues were friendly and welcoming, there was one person who didn't seem to extend the same courtesy - park sunghoon. It seems that despite the warm reception you received from others, park sunghoon's behavior made you feel uncomfortable or unwelcome in some way.

sunghoon is known for being a ceo of park corporation.

park corporation is a highly successful business entity that has gained immense popularity and recognition in the country. sunghoom is known for being a cold and calculative person who leaves no stone unturned when it comes to achieving success. despite his stern demeanor, he has managed to lead the company towards unprecedented growth and profitability, making it one of the most sought-after business ventures in the country.

the young and handsome ceo had quite an impact on everyone around him. thers was just something about him that made people swoon, whether it was his sharp features, the beautiful moles around his face, or his mysterious personality that left everyone curious and wanting to know more. It was impossible not to be drawn to him, and his presence seemed to fill the room with an energy that was both alluring and captivating.

despite his strikingly good looks, you found yourself unable to overlook his unpleasant personality traits. his constant arrogance, selfishness, and insensitivity made it impossible for you to find him attractive beyond his physical appearance. It was such a shame, as you had initially been drawn to him, but his negative personality traits ultimately overshadowed his good looks.

despite being a perfectionist and very strict with his employees, sunghoon is highly respected and admired by his employees . he is known for being a workaholic and overworking everyone around him. yet, his employees still treat him like a king.

for example, if you get his coffee order wrong, best believe you're fired the next day.

and that's why everyone respected and feared park sunghoon.

you seem to be experiencing a lot of frustration with your boss. from what you've shared, it sounds like he treats you differently than he does his other employees. as his secretary for the past year, you feel like he doesn't value you as a person. this treatment has left you feeling angry and disrespected.

but what confused everyone is that he never fired you. all his secretaries never lasted more than 3 months. and the only reason why you haven't quit is because putting up with his strict attitude at least helps you pay rent.

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two ᡣ𐭩 park sunghoon is a menace.

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over the past few weeks, work has been nothing short of a nightmare. your boss, sunghoon, seems to have taken a particular dislike to you, piling on more work than you can handle and berating you for even the smallest of mistakes - like spilling his coffee on the floor. It's as if he never wants you to catch a break. but thankfully, you have your two best friends, chaewon and jake, who also happen to be your colleagues. even though they're equally terrified of sunghoon, they still lend a sympathetic ear to your endless rants about him, all while anxiously keeping an eye out for sunghoon’s looming presence. you can't help but feel grateful for their unwavering support amidst the chaos of your work life.

you're getting very little sleep lately, barely making it to 5 hours a night due to the extra work you've taken on. as a result, you're noticing some physical changes, such as dark circles under your eyes that can't be concealed with makeup and a puffy face. Your colleagues have taken notice of your appearance and are expressing concern, especially chaewon. It seems that sunghoon, who you believe is responsible for the extra workload, hasn't acknowledged how tired you are and seems to be oblivious to the impact it's having on you. you're starting to feel frustrated with sunghoon's lack of empathy towards your situation and are beginning to see him as a bit of a menace.

as you were typing an email, your frustration with sunghoon was growing. you couldn't help but curse him in your head for the extra work he’s been giving you. however, as you continued to type away, you suddenly heard a deep and masculine voice behind you, causing you to jump in surprise.

“miss l/n, I’d like to talk to you today at 3 p.m. and don't be late.” sunghoon emphasizing on the “don't”.

ugh, that jerk. does he have any empathy?

————————౨ৎ————————

three ᡣ𐭩 the meeting.

————————౨ৎ————————

as you take a step into sunghoon’s office, you immediately notice his piercing gaze fixed on you. the atmosphere feels tense and serious as if the slightest misstep could have serious consequences. you can see that sunghoon is in no mood for small talk, and you brace yourself for what's to come. the air around you feels cold and unwelcoming, adding to the already heavy feeling in the room. despite the uncomfortable environment, you try to maintain your composure and focus on the matter at hand.

“you’re 5 minutes late, miss l/n.”

“my apologies sir. I was doing the papers you gave me.” you trying your best to seem apologetic.

taking a seat across from sunghoon, he puts his papers and books aside and starts to talk.

“so you're aware of our business trip coming right?”

“yes sir. I am.”

“great. so we have a grand ball and everyone has to bring a partner. and uh…” sunghoon suddenly got a bit hesitant.

“I don't seem to have a partner yet. so I was wondering if you would accept being my partner for the ball. It will be good for business.”

park sunghoon wants you to be his partner? he's never asked for something like this.

“I am honored, sir but I am afraid that I cannot accept tha-”

“wait.”

“I can give you a raise and everything will be paid for.”

why is he so persistent with this? this cannot be park sunghoon.

“okay, sir.”

————————౨ৎ————————

four ᡣ𐭩 the trip.

————————౨ৎ————————

as you finish packing your bags and getting ready to leave, you take a moment to look back at your phone and scroll through the messages with sunghoon. you read through each text carefully, taking note of every detail, from the time and location of your meeting points to the items you both agreed to bring along. you want to make sure you remember everything so that your trip goes smoothly.

you're going to paris, staying at a five-star hotel, and everything is paid for. the trip can't be that bad right? wrong. because when you arrive at the hotel you're staying at, your mood immediately changes.

“there must be a mistake mam.” sunghoon giving you an unnecessary glare.

“yeah, we are very sure we booked different rooms.”

“I apologize sir but all our other rooms are full so we can give you separate rooms in about 3 days.”

great. you're stuck with the man you hate the most. you doubt he’ll be a good roommate.

“okay. but I want the separate rooms as soon as possible.” sunghoon sounding irritated. now that's park sunghoon. unlike the sunghoon you saw in the office.

as you step into the room, a feeling of horror engulfs you. you take a quick glance around and realize there's only one bed in the room. the thought of sharing the bed with sunghoon makes you feel uneasy. you know he would absolutely not agree to it, and you're not comfortable with the idea either. you start to wonder how you'll manage to spend the night without a proper sleeping arrangement.

“sleep on the couch.”

“Is that seriously how you treat your secretary?” sunghoon scoffing.

“look, what about we take turns until we get separate rooms.”

“fine.”

————————౨ৎ————————

five ᡣ𐭩 the first night.

————————౨ৎ————————

the first night you took the bed and sunghoon took the couch. the bed was big and fluffy but you kinda felt bad for sunghoon because the couch barely had space for his height.

and you couldn't sleep because you kept looking at sunghoon. you hated the fact that he looked so hot in regular pajamas which you hadn't seen him wear before. and what made him hotter was his messy hair down. ugh if only his manners matched his looks.

as you tried to doze off, you couldn't help but notice him sitting quietly at his desk, completely engrossed in his work. his hair was disheveled and fell messily around his face, but it only made him look more attractive. he wore a simple black t-shirt that hung loosely on his frame, paired with cozy grey sweatpants. his glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose, giving him an intellectual air.

you kept stealing glances at him and he caught you a few times which made you flustered and immediately turn to the other side.

the ball is in 3 days which makes you nervous because the ball is filled with millionaires and celebrities. and you've never even been to a concert.

gosh why did you accept the offer.

————————౨ৎ————————

six ᡣ𐭩 day one.

————————౨ৎ————————

the next morning, sunghoon seemed to already have left.

stretching a little, you see a note on the counter.

| hello l/n.

| I have left early for a business meeting. I have booked ______ restaurant for your breakfast in the lobby. enjoy.

-sunghoon

he reserved an entire restaurant for you? that's oddly sweet of him.

quickly getting dressed in simple clothes, you go downstairs to the restaurant sunghoon.

the restaurant was filled with various foods and nice attire.

you enjoyed the breakfast a lot. the waiters treated you like a queen and you probably had the best food you've had in a while.

and after you've finished your breakfast, you decide to look around the hotel.

the hotel definitely deserved it's 5-star rating. the building was fancy with gold everywhere.

as you were scanning the area, your attention was drawn towards an office space nearby, where you spotted someone you recognized - sunghoon.

when a staff noticed you, she excitedly opened the door.

“you must be mr. park's wife!”

“ah- you must be mistake-”

“honey! come inside.” sunghoon going to you wrapping his arm around your waist.

what the hell is going on.

you taking a seat beside sunghoon, you angrily whisper to him.

“what the hell are you doing.”

“just play along with it. I’ll tell you later.”

what did you get yourself into?!

after the meeting ended, you dragged sunghoon to your hotel room angrily.

“care to explain?” raising your eyebrows.

“okay look, the other businessmen always pressured me to have a wife and I was tired of them asking about my love life so I just told them I was married to someone.” sunghoon giving you a nervous look.

“are you kidding me? this wasn't in our deal!”

“what do you want me to do?!”

“I don't know! tell them you were lying?!”

“I can't for God's sake! can't you just play along with it for a month?!”

“no, I can't!”

“I’ll give you a higher raise and a break from work alright?”

gosh, why does he bribe you to do things all the time? but man you needed a break. why does his tactic always work?

“fine but tell them we divorced or something when we're done.”

“deal.”

————————౨ৎ————————

seven ᡣ𐭩 awkward night.

————————౨ৎ————————

It was truly uncomfortable to be in the same room as Sunghoon. the tension between the two of you was palpable, and it was clear that you both were trying your best to avoid any kind of eye contact or conversation.

and today it was sunghoons turn to have the bed.

you didn't really mind because the couch was big enough for your smaller figure. you just hope the night goes quickly.

gladly you felt yourself drifting to sleep.

⭐︎switch! to sunghoons pov..⭐︎

sunghoon felt stupid. why did he lie to powerful businessmen just for them to get off his ass?

and with you out of all people to choose? he hated you. or so he thought.

as much as it pained him to admit it, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of fondness and appreciation for your endearing appearance. there you were, peacefully asleep on the couch, your features softened by a gentle slumber. Your eyes radiated a subtle luminescence, making you seem almost ethereal, and your face was adorned with delicate, pleasing features that he found undeniably attractive. despite his reservations, he couldn't help but acknowledge that you were, in fact, quite cute.

he never even had a crush on anyone his whole life. he didn't know what to do.

what do you say to your crush? do you flirt with them or is that cringey? sunghoon founded that cringe.

so he resorted to one thing he was good at, running from his feelings and acting cold.

but these past few days, you've gotten prettier than before. was it the oversized pajamas? or was it that you kept looking at him and getting flustered, or was it just you?

sunghoon couldn't resist staring at you while you were sleeping, you looked so peaceful and adorable with your eyes closed and your lips slightly pouted. sunghoon could hear a soft, gentle snore coming from you, and it was such a comforting sound. watching you sleep like that was a moment of pure tranquility, and it made sunghoon adore your presence even more.

he wanted to bury his face in your neck while you were playing with his hair. ah, sunghoon wanted to scream.

he couldn't resist the urge to crouch down and take a closer look at your peaceful sleeping figure. As he observed you, he noticed that your blanket had fallen off and he carefully fixed it, ensuring you were comfortable. he couldn't resist the urge to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, admiring your beauty even in your slumber.

“you drive me crazy honey.” he whispers.

————————౨ৎ————————

eight ᡣ𐭩 the next morning.

————————౨ৎ————————

⭐︎back! to your pov.⭐︎

when you woke up, sunghoon’s head was resting next to yours.

you are not sure how this happened, but at that moment, it didn't seem to matter. your faces were so close that you almost couldn't breathe. the intensity of the moment was palpable, and you found yourself lost in the connection between you.

while trying to get up without waking up your boss, you tiptoe to the bathroom.

what the hell happened? and why did this happen? you were a blushing mess.

and with your luck, sunghoon was knocking on the bathroom door.

“y/n, are you okay?”

shit shit shit your entire face was red. wait.. did he just use your first name?!

“yup! um.. sunghoon” that was so embarrassing.

————————౨ৎ————————

nine ᡣ𐭩 the night before the ball.

————————౨ৎ————————

the day went by pretty quickly. you ate breakfast, worked, napped, and avoided sunghoon.

as the day of the ball approached, you couldn't help but feel extremely nervous. your mind was plagued with thoughts of what could go wrong - what if you tripped and fell in front of everyone? or what if you wear the wrong dress and become the laughingstock of the event? these thoughts were making you more and more anxious as time went on, and you couldn't shake off the feeling of dread that was slowly creeping up on you.

as you lay in bed, you find yourself tossing and turning restlessly. the ball of stress in your stomach seems to grow larger with each passing moment, making it difficult for you to settle down. how much you wish you were in someone's comforting embrace right now, someone who could help chase away the anxious thoughts and ease the tension in your body.

it's already been an hour and you have no sign of sleeping. this is bad.

what if you wake up late? what if your eye bags are too dark? you needed to look perfect tomorrow.

“sunghoon..”

“yes.?” sunghoon said in a raspy sleepy voice.

“I can't sleep. can I um..”

“sleep with you?”

you found yourself straining to make out sunghoon's face in the darkness. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of regret for asking him to meet you at this time. the lack of light made it difficult to read his expression or gauge his reaction to your conversation, leaving you feeling uneasy and uncertain about how to proceed.

he isn't answering. gosh, why would you ask your boss to cuddle with you?

“sure.” you getting caught off guard.

as you felt sunghoon carrying you up on the bed, your heart was pounding like crazy.

as sunghoon lifted you up in his arms, you couldn't help but notice how his body felt warm and inviting against yours. his muscular arms wrapped around you securely, creating a sense of comfort and safety that you had never experienced before. you could feel his steady heartbeat against your chest, and the gentle rhythm of his breath as he held you close. It was a moment that you wished could last forever, as you found yourself lost in the warmth and security of his embrace.

the sensation he evoked was one of comfort, which was quite unusual as he typically caused stress for you. however, at this moment, you found yourself feeling at ease in his presence. perhaps there was something different about him today that allowed him to bring you a sense of comfort.

as you nestled close to him, you could feel the warmth emanating from his body. his heartbeat was as quick as yours, and you could hear it thumping in his chest. he had his arm wrapped around your waist, and his hand held you securely, making you feel safe and protected.

you could feel the exhaustion taking over your body. the gentle sound of the wind outside the window, and the dim light filtering through the curtains, added to the peaceful company holding you in his arms. within moments, you found yourself drifting away into a deep slumber, feeling completely relaxed and at ease.

————————౨ৎ————————

ten ᡣ𐭩 the ball.

————————౨ৎ————————

today was a highly anticipated day - the day of the ball. you had been eagerly awaiting this day for days and had spent countless hours planning and preparing your attire. as the time of the ball drew closer, you began to feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. you carefully selected your outfit, making sure every detail was perfect. From the jewelry you chose to the shoes on your feet, everything had to be just right. As you stood in front of the mirror, you took a deep breath and admired your reflection. you were ready to make an entrance and have a night to remember.

you were wearing a beautiful silky white dress that gracefully flowed down your figure. the dress was complemented by your bright silver jewelry which added a touch of elegance to your overall look. the jewelry included a pair of exquisite earrings, a matching necklace, and a bracelet that sparkled under the light. you couldn't help but notice how stunning you looked.

as you walked into the lobby, you noticed Sunghoon standing there. As he turned to look at you, you felt his eyes scanning you from head to toe. It made you wonder if he was checking you out or just simply taking in your appearance. The way he looked at you made you feel a little self-conscious, but at the same time, you couldn't help but feel flattered by the attention.

as he walked towards you, a smile spread across his face and he greeted you with a compliment, "Wow, you look absolutely stunning today". The sincerity in his voice made you feel appreciated and confident in your appearance and your face a bright shade of red.

as you stepped out of the venue, his hand gently rested on your hip, guiding you toward the waiting limo. you couldn't help but steal a glance at him and admire his impeccable look - the crisp navy suit, the perfectly styled hair, and the charming smile that made your heart skip a beat.

as you step into the ballroom, you can't help but be in awe of the stunning ambiance that surrounds you. the dim-lit lights cast a warm glow, illuminating the intricate details of the walls and adding to the overall enchanting atmosphere. you take a moment to appreciate the stunning attire of the guests, each outfit carefully chosen to match the elegance of the event.

as sunghoon walks away to greet the other businessmen, you take a moment to look around the luxurious ballroom. the soft glow of the chandeliers casts a warm light on the elegant decor, which is adorned with intricate floral arrangements. In the background, the sound of romantic music fills the air, creating a dreamy and enchanting atmosphere. you sway to the gentle rhythm of the song "aphrodite" by rini, feeling the smoothness of the marble floor beneath your feet. the fragrance of freshly cut flowers and the aroma of delicious food tantalize your senses, making you feel more alive than ever. all around you, people are chatting and laughing, enjoying the festivities of this grand event.

after dancing for a while, you take a break and head to the bar to quench your thirst. as you sip your drink, you take in the lively atmosphere around you. the dance floor is filled with couples swaying to the music, guests laughing and mingling, and in the midst of it all, you spot sunghoon. he looks absolutely stunning, with his charming smile and magnetic aura.

as you were engrossed in admiring him, with your eyes fixated on him, and your mind lost in thoughts, a random middle-aged man, with a slightly hunched posture, appears on the horizon. He seems to be walking towards you with a purpose.

“hey, sweetheart. what's a beautiful young woman like you drinking alone?” giving you a creepy smile.

the older male putting his hand on your cheek and holding your waist without your consent, you immediately back away in surprise.

“what are you doing?!”

“relax sweetie..” the creepy man chuckling.

right. you were “married” to sunghoon. that can be an excuse to get out of this situation.

“sir I'm happily married. get away from me”

the man getting angry, he says defensively.

“whatever! I don't want a slut like you anyway!”

as you were about to voice your opinion, you suddenly felt a strong hand on your shoulder. startled, you turned around and saw a tall, muscular man standing behind you. before you could react, he grabbed your arm and pulled you closer, his deep voice sending shivers down your spine.

“if you ever speak disrespectfully about my wife, i’ll kill you.”

the creepy man chuckling seemed to piss sunghoon off more.

“sorry, that sounded like a joke. I will actually kill you.”

the man angrily backing away while scoffing, you turn to sunghoon.

“thank you..”

“no need to say sorry. I can't let anyone talk bad about my princess.”

at that moment, you feel your cheeks start to flush and your heart rate picks up. you try to turn away to hide your embarrassment, but suddenly sunghoon's hand is on your chin, gently but firmly guiding your gaze back to his. you meet his intense gaze, feeling a jolt of electricity pass between you. despite your nerves, you can't help but feel a sense of safety and comfort in his touch.

as you stand there, lost in thought, he gently reaches out and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lightly brushing against your skin. you feel his breath on your ear as he leans in and whispers something soft and sweet, his voice barely above a whisper. the sound of his voice sends shivers down your spine and you can't help but feel a flutter in your chest.

“I wanna make you mine so bad.”

“then do it..” putting your arms around his neck.

“fuck.. you make me go crazy.”

“do I now?”

you tilt your head a little and sunghoon giving you a small nod, you then reach out and pull him closer to you. as he moves in, you feel the warmth of his body and the gentle rise and fall of his breath. you look into his eyes, feeling a connection growing between you both, and suddenly realize how much you always cared for him.

In the moment when sunghoon is about to kiss you, he gently holds your face with his hands and brings it closer to his. as he looks into your eyes, he softly asks for your consent by saying "may I?" in a respectful and considerate tone.

as you look at him with longing in your eyes, he notices your desire and leans in to kiss you. the touch of his lips on yours sends a shiver down your spine, and you respond eagerly, deepening the kiss. you can feel the heat radiating from his body as he wraps his arms around you, and you lose yourself in the sensation of his lips moving against yours. the passion between you intensifies with each passing moment, and you find yourself unable to resist his embrace.

as you both passionately kiss each other, he lifts you up into his arms and carries you to his car outside. the desire and hunger in his eyes are undeniable as he holds you tightly, lost in the moment. the room is quiet and dimly lit, creating an intimate atmosphere that adds to the intensity of the moment. you can feel his heart beating fast against your chest as you both give in to your physical desires, letting the world around you fade away.

who knew you’d end up making out with your boss who you swore you hated?

————————౨ৎ————————

bonus ᡣ𐭩 oh well!

————————౨ৎ————————

as you woke up with sunghoon beside you, you check your phone for any emails.

but instead of emails, you see hundreds of notifications from twitter, messenger, and Instagram.

when you open twitter, you immediately gasp in panic.

you just realized. when you two kissed, you were in sunghoons car with the door open with thousands of people being able to see the two of you anytime.

facepalming yourself, you check the 10+ notifications from chaewon.

before you can answer her texts, you hear a sleepy voice beside you.

“you hated me huh?” sunghoon grinning in amusement.

“can you blame me? you were awful.”

sunghoon chuckling, you kiss him.

oh well, you wouldn't mind the famous life if you were with him.

written by rkistars.

#enhypen #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #enhypen smau #fluff #enhypen comfort #spotify #angst #boss x secretary #park sunghoon #sunghoon #enhypen smut

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strangesmallbard · 26 days

Text

currently thinking about why some targaryen names are reused and not others. i think it’s mostly intentional, if not always. there are surface-level plot and characterization reasons why, but i also think these choices reinforce certain targ family narratives overall + reveal the patriarchy-laden marrow of the whole thing. none of these thoughts will be in logical order but bear with me LMAO.

i've already posted a bit about aegon, but also: the targaryens are trying to rebirth aegon i again and again and they always fail bc aegon i was always an ideal, not a real person who existed. aegon i was also an imperial conquerer; anyone who tries to live up to him will once again re-enact that violence on themselves, their family, and the people he subjugated. there’s “viserys” and never a living visenya; a warrior queen may have built this dynasty, but only her sons can take her place. the first rhaena targaryen, who had a similar political disposition to visenya, was denied the same power. (she was also named after rhaenys, known for being more gentle and kind-heated despite her own active participation in the conquest).

all three women/girls named rhaenys were, in different ways, overshadowed by male family members. rhaenys became a unwitting martyr to aegon (and visenya's) imperial cause, while rhaenys 2 was denied the throne in favor of viserys. rhaenys 3, meanwhile, is murdered during wartime; her younger brother was (maybe) saved to preserve rhaegar's bloodline. a bit like her first namesake, she becomes an unwitting symbol for oberyn's vengeance.

and there's more! king aenys was considered weak compared to aegon; no other children were named after him. maegor was considered too cruel, even by targaryen standards; no other children were named after him—except, of course, the royal quarters in the red keep are in a building called maegor's holdfast. his legacy follows every targ born since, even though they openly scorn his name. little prince jahaerys and princess jahaerya both die horribly because of a succession crisis that jaehaerys i helped cause. jaehaerys ii brought his namesake’s incest back, dooming his children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren before they were ever born.

meanwhile, rhaella names dany because the last daenerys brought peace to westeros (according to the targaryen pov); all dany craves is that peace, even though she only knows how to express that desire through the violent vestiges of her ancestors. young griff inherited the Aegon Curse, despite his dubious origins. will it matter at all, in the end? as the banners are raised in his name? and there's the jon snow of it all, the secret targaryen named after his uncle's father figure. not his father's hoped-for visenya, nor another aegon. i hope he doesn't have a targaryen name at all, in the end. i think that would be much more powerful than anything else.

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #aegon targaryen #rhaenys targaryen #visenya targaryen #yell.txt #this has been in my drafts for a minute

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phillydilly · 6 months

Note

been loving the way u write. i have been having thoughs and i needed to share. what if hannah schmidt and gianpiero (gp) were one person and was dating max. like y/n became max's engineer/stratgeist in 2021 and got him and red bull the 2021-2023 championships. they're like the ultimate rb racing and f1 couple.

other wags supporting their boys while y/n gets her boy wins. i just imagine them going on the podium together and max constantly saying 'our wins' and 'our accomplishments' like partners on and off track. plus the radio bickering- literally old married couple / mom and dad are fighting but momma knows best

Driven by Love

⊹♡— In which Max falls in love with his new radio engineer and strategist

Max Verstappen x fem!reader

Authors note: This idea was genius! I am so sorry this took so long to write, this request has been sitting in my inbox for a while. I’ve been really busy recently and so I worked on this story slower than usual. Nevertheless I hope you enjoy it as much as I loved writing it!

The Formula 1 paddock buzzed with anticipation as Max Verstappen welcomed a new radio engineer, Y/n, after GP's retirement. The Red Bull Racing team had kept Y/n's arrival a well-guarded secret, adding an air of mystery. Y/n, known for her brilliance and strategic prowess, was about to meet Max for the first time, a moment highly anticipated by the entire team.

Upon entering the garage, Max was a mix of curiosity and nervousness, having heard of Y/n's accomplishments. However, nothing had prepared him for her captivating presence. When Max finally met Y/n, her charm momentarily overshadowed his shyness.

Y/n, with a welcoming smile, extended her hand. "Max Verstappen, I presume?"

Max, his nervousness evident in his voice, responded, "Yes, that's me. You're Y/n, right?"

She nodded, her eyes gleaming with intelligence. "Indeed. I've extensively studied your driving data, and I'm thrilled to work with you."

Max, though slightly flustered, managed to speak. "That's great. I've heard incredible things about your strategies."

Y/n chuckled softly, finding Max's shyness endearing. "Let's see if we can continue the winning streak."

The team members around them exchanged knowing glances, aware of the unspoken tension. Max cleared his throat, striving to regain professionalism. "Yes, let's do that."

As they discussed the race strategy, Max found himself drawn to Y/n's intelligence and expertise. Y/n, on the other hand, was amused by Max's shyness, although they both understood the need for a strictly professional relationship.

As the meeting concluded, Y/n extended her hand again. "Looking forward to a successful partnership, Max."

Max shook her hand, feeling a mix of excitement. "Likewise, Y/n. Let's win some races."

₊.˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

As the racing season continued, Max and Y/n had been secretly dating for months, a relationship they cherished but kept hidden due to Y/n's fear of losing her job. Max knew he raced better with her by his side. Their bond was undeniable and reflected in their interactions during races.

During a race, Max received advice from Y/n about tire temperatures, and their playful bickering over the radio was evident, creating a unique dynamic.

Their hidden love story remained concealed, but their on-track partnership was undeniable. It was a bond they cherished, even if they couldn't openly acknowledge it.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

At the team's headquarters, the atmosphere was buzzing with anticipation. Max and Y/n had gathered their colleagues in the briefing room, where they usually discussed race strategies and reviewed data. The room fell silent as Max and Y/n stepped to the front of the room, holding hands.

Their colleagues exchanged knowing glances, smirking and exchanging nods as they anticipated what Max and Y/n were about to share. It was clear that their secret was no longer a secret.

Max cleared his throat and began, "Hey, everyone, we've got something important to share today."

Y/n smiled nervously and added, "Yeah, it's been a secret for a while, but we think it's time you all know."

The room was filled with grins and a few chuckles. Sarah, a fellow team member, couldn't help but tease, "Are you two getting married? Is this an engagement announcement?"

Max and Y/n shared an amused glance. Max replied, "Not quite, Sarah, but it's about our relationship."

Y/n continued, "We've been dating for a while now, and I'm sure most of you have figured it out by now. We're not as subtle as we thought."

Christian laughed and said, "Well, it's about time you made it official. We've known for a while, and honestly, it was about time you came clean."

Their colleagues chimed in with good-natured comments, expressing their support and happiness for the couple. It was a moment of relief for Max and Y/n, knowing that their colleagues had not only known about their relationship but had embraced it all along.

The room erupted into applause and congratulations as their colleagues celebrated the couple's decision to be open about their relationship. Max and Y/n exchanged relieved smiles, feeling that they had finally acknowledged what everyone had known for some time.

Max stated, "Thank you, everyone, for understanding. We're excited to share this part of our lives with all of you."

Y/n added, "We're still committed to giving our best on and off the track. And together, we're even stronger."

Their colleagues applauded once more, and it was clear that Max and Y/n's relationship had only strengthened their connection with the team, making it an even tighter-knit racing family.

₊˚⊹♡: ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

The final race of the season had arrived, and the world watched in anticipation as Max Verstappen found himself tied on points for the championship with Lewis Hamilton. It was a nail-biting showdown, and the pressure was immense.

In the early morning before the race, Max and Y/n found a quiet moment alone in the garage. Y/n looked into Max's eyes and smiled. "You've got this, Max. I believe in you."

Max, taking Y/n's hand, replied, "I couldn't have done any of this without you. You make me a better driver and a better person."

Their moment was interrupted by the team's race engineer, who reminded them it was almost time to head to the grid. Max and Y/n shared a quick, reassuring kiss before going their separate ways.

As the race began, the tension was palpable. Max and Lewis traded positions, battling for every inch of the track. Y/n was on the radio, providing crucial information and guidance to Max. During a pit stop, she couldn't help but playfully tease him, saying, "Max, you're not making this easy on me, are you?"

Max chuckled through the radio, "Well, you do love a challenge, don't you?"

Their playful banter provided a brief moment of relief amidst the intense competition. But as the laps ticked by, Max knew he had to give it his all.

In the final laps, Max and Lewis were neck and neck, the championship hanging in the balance. It was a thrilling battle, and the world watched in suspense. Y/n's voice was a steady presence in Max's earpiece, providing him with valuable information.

Then, with a daring overtaking maneuver, Max surged ahead and crossed the finish line as the race winner. The crowd erupted, and Y/n's voice crackled over the radio, "MAX, YOU ARE THE WORLD CHAMPION!"

Max, with joy in his voice, corrected her, "WE ARE WORLD CHAMPIONS!"

The cheers of the entire team resonated over the radio as Max celebrated his championship victory. The world now knew about their relationship, and they couldn't have been happier. Max and Y/n had not only won the championship, but they had also won the hearts of racing fans worldwide, proving that love and success could go hand in hand on the track.

#max Verstappen #max Verstappen imagine #max Verstappen one shot #max Verstappen x you #max Verstappen x reader #formula 1 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 smut #max Verstappen smut #max Verstappen x y/n #formula 1 x female reader #max Verstappen x female reader

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sugusatosluut · 4 months

Text

Yuuji Itadori x Fem!reader

MDNI✨

heads up: fluff, smut (experienced!yuuji, Virgin!reader , yuuji really wants you.

Your friend group was pretty big. Outside of school, the Tokyo and Kyoto classes hung out despite their differences. You guys hung out in a large group, so it was easy during these times for you and Yuuji to slip away and go makeout in an outlet dressing room or just talk and eat ice cream. Nobody knew about you two.. or at least that’s what you both thought. Nobara picked up pretty quickly, sometimes even foiling you guys’ plans to be alone. Megumi grilled yuuji about it until he confessed, making Megumi feel proud of him. Even going so far as to tell him to take that pinup poster down now.

The sun was setting, you and yuuji decided to slip away quietly again. Nobody really seemed to care because they were too caught up in arguing about water being wet and where you guys should go for dinner. You figured you guys would just be a short while since all you wanted to do was kiss him. The feeling was mutual to you from him as well. Yuuji grabbed your hand and snuck you into the nearest clothing store. You both stumbled into a dressing room, locking it behind you as you both stood looking at eachother. Yuuji sat down, then he gave his lap a pat.

“C’mere.” He smiled.

His smile was like looking over Tokyo at night. It made your heart warm and felt like a breath of fresh air. Yuuji was always so gentle with you, even when he was so wrapped up in kissing you, his compulsion to squeeze your hips into his was overshadowed by how soft you were being with him. You sat in his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and smiling at him. He couldn’t lie, he’s been wanting more than just a glance at you all day.

“You look good, is that the shirt I picked out from So-Chee?” He smiled.

“Mhmm, I wanted to wear it today. The fabric is soft for a tank top, it’s very tight fitting and my boobs finally feel secure.” You giggled softly as you pressed a kiss to his neck. You flowered your kisses all over as he moaned softly.

“Your body looks amazing. I’ve been wanting this all day.” He said kissing you back.

You sucked on his neck softly, moving place to place leaving small marks that were barely recognizable. He pulled your body close, kissing you passionately on the lips. He let his tongue glide and part your lips, finding his way to your own eager tongue. His hands grabbed both sides of your face, his thumbs on your cheeks as he tongued your mouth down, exploring your minty breath. He pulled away softly to look at you, then planted his face in the cleavage of the light pink tight tank top he got you. Your breasts were practically screaming for him to put his face there. You had something for him, something you’ve been waiting to tell him for a while and you didn’t want to do it on an outing like this.

“Can we go to your dorm after dinner with the group tonight? Just me and you?” You asked.

“Mhm, I have something for you anyways, been meaning to give it to you.,. Ugh why do we have to go...” He groaned quietly as he pecked each of your breasts with a sloppy kiss.

“Let’s go before they think we died. The last thing I want is for kugisaki to make a scene like last time.” You joked.

“Yeah, let’s see if they ever figured dinner out.” Yuuji smiled at you.

The dinner plans went through, you all sat at a place similar to hot pot. It was a major success between the two groups. Forget bonding at school, the schools would never agree to fund a trip like this. It was good to outside of school and all the rivalry. You sat next to yuuji and yuuta, smiling the whole time.

That was, until yuuji put a hand on your thigh under the table. You were a blushing mess at something so innocent. His hand stroked the bumpiness of your knee. Fingers threatening to creep up and touch your pulsating mess under the skirt you wore. Both your hands were under the table, but you didn’t dare try to stop him from doing what he was doing. You wanted to show him you were ready too.

“Hey, Itadori. Can you please pass the meat? Maki says the ramen would go good with it and I kinda want to try it.” Yuuta smiled.

“Of course.” He smiled.

Yuuji’s wallet dropped out of his pocket, you got down and smirked to yourself internally before ‘accidentally’ palming his crotch to catch yourself.

He breathed in a sharp breath before taking a glance at you. You were smiling at him.

“Oh-im sorry yuuji. Here let me fix that.” You said from under the table. You gave him a quick feel up under the table over his clothes. He was already hard. You got up from under the table and playing between his legs. He was quite shocked to say the least but he was turned on. The innocence you kept in front of your friends was intriguing especially since he’s been the one to feel and witness how nasty you could be in private. Oh god when could he touch you?

After dinner, you and yuuji walked to his dorm instead of dropping you off at yours first. You sat on his bed having already explored his room many times before. Nothing devious or naughty the previous times, you two watched movies and cuddled and held game nights at his place usually. Tonight was different though. Tonight you wanted privacy.

“Okay sweet girl, stay right here. I got you some stuff just because I was thinking about you really hard the other day.” He smiled. Yuuji Itadori just had one of the warmest smiles. It could pull you right out of sadness.

He approached you with a big bag.

“Woah! What’s all this?” You asked. If your eyes could be giant hearts, you’d let them stay that way forever.

“Go ahead, open it.” He gestured.

You took the paper out of the bag and a card fell out.

“You can save that for last though, here lemme see.” He said gently taking the card from you.

You took some things out the bag.

Some lip gloss that you glanced at the other day while it was just the two of you, some scrunchies, a new purse, some socks, a yellow hoodie to match his own, and a.. what is that?

“It’s a vibrator.” He smiled nervously.

You looked at him lovingly.

“Oh- yuu i wanted to ask you something.” You smiled at him.

“You know whatever you ask for, if I can give it to you I will. I cant say no to my pretty girl.” Yuuji said caressing the small of your back.

“Can we do it? I know what I’m asking isn’t easy but I know what I want and I want it to be with you.. I’m ready.” You blushed.

Yuuji moved your hair out of your face and brought you on top of his lap. You looked pretty like this. Face red off your nerves, eyes hopeful yet full of curiosity and desire. Yuuji wanted to make sure you were sure because he wanted this just as bad as you did. He wanted to see you fucked out on his cock, damn near drooling and begging for more. Some night’s he would jerk off just thinking about the lewd images that popped up in his head while he was already thinking about you. He’s glad Megumi made him take that damn pinup poster down.. he never looked at it or admired it, but sometimes in the heat of the moment, instead of seeing the pinup girl, he’d imagine you on the poster, fingers lingering over your dripping cunt and eyes squinted shut. God, was Yuuji Itadori lucky..

“Okay princess, take it all off.” He smirked at you.

You smiled at him, taking off your tank top and your skirt. Yuuji was kinda shocked, no bra? And the lace panties he was staring at through the lingerie shop window? God you were perfect. He couldn’t waste any time, he needed to make you feel good, he needed to be the one to corrupt you, make you feel so good. He took his clothes off, leaving him completely stripped in front of you, his cock slapping the skin of his stomach, just long enough to reach past his belly button. You were shocked at the sight in front of you. You and yuuji and done stuff but you’ve never seen him naked. He had a girlfriend last year but you didn’t know much about their relationship, you assumed they’d probably had sex. You were in for a treat.

Yuuji lied you down on the bed, making sure you were comfortable before taking one of your nipples into his mouth. He sucked softly at first, your quiet moans edging him on. He wondered if he sucked harder, would you get louder? So he did. He sucked hard and your body writhed needingly in response.

“ah-yuuji- feels s’good.” You whined.

His fingers traced your panties, feeling how wet you were. There was already a wet spot on his sheets. How embarassing, you couldn’t keep it contained any longer.

“Looks like my sweet girl couldn’t wait any longer for me, you’re already so wet. I bet I could just slip right in.” He kissed your neck. While kissing your neck he discreetly slid one finger inside you. It felt uncomfortable at first, then the pleasure hit. You grabbed onto his shoulders as he fingered your hole perfectly. Loud mewls escaping your lips, showing him your satisfaction. There was a feeling in your stomach, it kept growing more intense until you finally felt it, you released all over yuuji’s fingers.

“Naughty girl, you didn’t tell me you were getting close.” He smiled at you.

“I’m-s-sorry yuu.. I can keep going, I want more. I want to feel that again.” You panted.

Yuuji’s eyes lit up with joy. He moved you, he took his spot under you and positioned you so that he was perfectly aligned with your leaking hole. It was still pulsating at the thought of his cock entering you.

“Princess this might hurt or it might feel good. You’re really soaked. Just tell me if it hurts I’ll stop.” He said looking you up and down.

You nodded. “Yes baby.” You smiled.

You sank down slowly onto his cock, feeling it stiffen up more inside you. You yelped, closing your eyes and catching your breath.

“Do you want me to stop?”

“N-no, just needed to catch my breath. You’re so big.” You whispered.

“You can bounce whenever you want, just hold onto me.” He said grabbing your waist.

You wasted no time, both your hands were placed on his chest as your knees helped while you lifted your waist and dropped back down on his hard shaft.

“Y/n- Princess-slow down, you’re already so tight, I might just cum.” He let out a breathy chuckle.

“Sorry, just feels so good yuu.” You panted.

You continued at a slower pace, yuuji was a moaning mess. He couldn’t believe it. His love, this pure virgin school girl was riding him, hole tight and gripping his cock so tightly. He was more than qualified to take this from you, to corrupt you with his cock and make you his. He couldn’t take it anymore, he moved your hands behind your back and held them together with one hand, while he gripped your waist with the other. He started thrusting into you at a fast pace with heavy force, tits bouncing everywhere and moans filling up the room along with the slapping of his balls against your ass cheeks.

“Hah-huh- oh yuu—— ah- ah, fuck me!” You screamed out.

“Anything for you princess- fuck- mm.” He moaned.

Yuuji scooted himself up, continuing to thrust into you. His lips attached to one of your tits as he nipped and sucked. He’d left several marks that only he’d be able to see whenever he wanted. His thumb bruised your hip, he was gripping you so tight. You weren’t able to see it but you knew it would be there later.

The ripple of your ass as he smacked his hips into yours at such a strong and fast pace was getting him so close. The coil in your stomach started to build up again.

“Yuuji- I’m close!” You cried.

“Me too- hang on- fuck.” He cried out. He threw you on your back in a swift motion and continued his sweet assault on your cunt, his thrusts growing sloppy.

“I’m gonna cum y/n, fuck you’re so perfect for me.” He moaned.

Without warning you squirted all over, making you a panting, moaning mess. Yuuji enjoyed your fucked out expression. The one he’s been daydreaming about and imagining every night. The coil in his stomach was ready to snap. He pulled out, spewing hot white ropes of cum all over your breast and your stomach. You both were sweaty and panting, just staring at eachother. Yuuji kissed you on the forehead.

“I meant it, you’re perfect.” He smiled.

“You’re perfect.” You said back to him.

“Let’s get cleaned up so we can cuddle.” He said.

Yuuji quickly changed the sheets before hopping into the warm shower after you, then when you both finally calmed down, you got comfortable under the new warm and thick blankets he changed for the bed.

“Aren’t you glad I kept some of your underwear here?” He chuckled.

“Mhmm, my hero.” You sighed as you got sleepy.

“Hey, if you’re ready.. I’d like to tell the group we’re dating. I was gonna ask you regardless of when we did.. this.. but I’m serious. I never wanted anyone as bad as I’ve wanted you. You’re perfect for me, and I love you.” He said playing with your hair.

“Yuu.. I’d love that. Can we still sneak away and have our own little adventures?” You asked.

“We can do anything you want sweet girl.” He winked, kissing you as you both fell asleep soundly in his dorm.

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artificial-transmutations · 6 months

Note

Idea: My fantasy is to be forcibly transformed from a young, affluent, VERY clean, well-educated, well groomed, well dressed white corporate executive into a VERY dirty uneducated garbageman. I must be forced to surrender my corporate career, my car, my office, my name, my money, my expensive formal business suit and tie, my wristwatch and polished black dress shoes and even my dress socks, along the way to my new real life.

Boardroom to trash bins

You glance at the golden watch on your left wrist and decide to walk a little faster.

You are not late - yet - but the board meeting is too important to be late to. Of course, on the other hand, you can't walk so fast that you would break a sweat. The thought alone of arriving at meeting room with beads of sweat on your forehead or, God forbid, a damp spot on your dress shirt is even worse than coming a minute or two late. That, at least, you can blame on the traffic, which is not even wrong. Your expensive German car has been stuck behind a garbage truck for a good ten minutes. Inacceptable, of course. You would expect the city to schedule such annoying but probably necessary services at night, when there is no traffic that could be slowed down by it.

After all, you have a reputation to uphold! You are Jameson Pierce, son of the millionaire and successful investor James Pierce. You are also the owner and CEO of one of the most prominent investment companies, Pierce&Co.

You have the best business education money can buy and your decisions influence the fate of thousands of employees of yours. You don't arrive late to board meetings like that!

Still, there is no reason to get agitated yet. If the lift is free, you will arrive perfectly on time.

As you quickly make your way over the office parking lot that is being overshadowed by the 50 story skyscraper you own, you almost collide with an old man in a blue uniform, who is blocking the way into the building by picking up refuse from the ground. Apparently, the wind has knocked over the garbage can next to the entrance, and all the contents have scattered on the pavement. The old man is just bending down to pick up the cans and garbage bags and put them back in the bin.

"Out of the way!" you blurt. Usually, you are nicer to your employees by just curtly ignoring them, but this old man is blocking your way and moves slow as a snail.

"Of course, sir, right away!" he says with a toothless smile, and you almost gag. The old man is disgusting! He looks as if he has been sleeping on the street, and the smell of booze emanating from him makes that assumption very likely. You briefly wonder if he even works for you and decide that if so, he needs to be disciplined for his appearance.

However, you are interrupted by his next sentence.

"I just need to pick up all that garbage here. You could help, sir, that would make it quicker."

What? This filthy old drunkard dares to ask you for help? The audacity!

"Out of my way!" you repeat and push the old man aside. You are now standing directly in front of the revolving door, ready to enter your company's building. Behind you, you can hear the old man mumbling something and then start cackling, like a maniac.

You shrug it off. The man is lucky you don't have time for that right now, as you carefully navigate through the scattered items on the ground. You need to be extra careful not to ruin your thousand dollar shoes or dress pants by stepping into something sticky and foul-smelling.

Even if you weren't in a hurry, there's no way Jameson Pierce would bend down to pick up garbage. You are reasonably proud to have never touched anything that has been in a bin - that's what employees are for, not managers like you.

The board meeting continues as bad as the day had started. It is way too warm in the meeting room and you can't prevent a single drop of sweat forming on your forehead. Of course, you wipe it away with your silk handkerchief and hope nobody has noticed, but that's not the only thing going wrong. Twice in your report, you find yourself at a loss of words. Instead of using the correct technical term, you have to verbally set back half a sentence and explain what you mean in simpler words. How very, very embarrassing.

It comes as no surprise that, when the meeting is finally over, you are in a particularly bad mood. Sadly, the old man from before has left, otherwise you would have fired him on the spot as a therapeutic action.

On the way to your car, you call your secretary to cancel all further appointments today, but as you try to ring the number, you just get the message that no connection could be made.

Just great. So, your office phone system has broken down as well. Angrily, you get in your car to drive over to your office yourself.

You don't get very far. Halfway on the way to your office, there is a grinding noise from the engine and then, your car just stops. Right in the middle of the street. You almost can't believe your bad luck. Angrily, you hit the steering wheel, sounding the horn in the process, but it's no use. Trying to ignore the honking from outside and the rude gestures of drivers finding their way around you, you reach into your pocket to call the car dealership. Luckily, you're well covered for such situations.

You stare blankly at the device in your hand. This isn't your cell phone. Instead of the brand new current flagship model with the big Pineapple on the back, you are looking at the cheap plastic of a no-name device with a cracked screen that is probably ten years old.

"What the...?"

You frantically search all of your pockets, but they are all empty.

You can't help but feel as if you have gone insane. No, there has to be a rational explanation. You have probably just pocketed the wrong phone when you were at the board meeting. Of course, there are immediately nagging voices in your mind that remind you that you had tried to call your office just before getting in the car, or that surely nobody at the board meeting would have such a phone, but you decide to tune them out.

Your office is now only two blocks away. There, you have your tablet with all of your contacts. You can call the car dealership to care for the car and then just end this horrible day.

You get out of the car and ignore the shouting from the other drivers. A line of cars has formed behind your expensive Mercedes, but you ignore that as well and begin to walk. Two blocks don’t sound too bad, but it is a hot day, and you feel uncomfortable quickly. You have to loosen your tie because it feels constricting around your neck. That's not the only piece of clothing feeling wrong. Your step feels heavier, and you have to scratch yourself multiple times, trying to readjust the expensive Italian dress shirt, which is suddenly not sitting right.

Finally, you arrive at your office building. You don't even want to look down on yourself. You can feel your shirt clinging to your body and you feel disgusted by your appearance. Good thing this will all be over soon.

As you approach the elevator, you notice that you don't have your wallet at the ready - you must have forgotten it at the car. Ignoring the fact that you just now have realized the lack of its weight and the fact that you never leave your wallet in your car, you go to the reception for an elevator.

The receptionist, a perfectly styled young woman, watches as you approach and smiles.

"Hello Sir, what can I do for you today?"

"An elevator to my office." you say, adding a "Please." although you don't really feel like it.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but what exactly is your office?"

You look at the receptionist dumbfounded.

"My office." You repeat slower now.

"I don't know you sir, you need to be more specific." The young woman smiles.

That's it.

"What do you mean you don't know me?!" You shout. "I own this fucking place. It is me, Jameson Pierce! Now call me an elevator and then pack your things, you are fired!"

The receptionist looks at you as if she was dealing with a madman.

"Sir, you are not in the company register and I'm sorry, but if you don't leave the premises immediately, I'll call security."

"What are you talking about? I have an office on the 50th floor, which is where I need to go!"

"You can't have an office there, sir, that is the executive offices. Now, please leave."

"Listen, girl." you lean closer, invading her space. "Call. Me. An. Elevator. Or else."

The young woman doesn't even flinch. She presses the intercom and speaks with a steady voice: "Security, there is a madman in the lobby. Please come and remove him."

"You little...", you start, but the young woman is done talking to you. Instead, she turns away and starts to file her nails, waiting for security, which arrives some seconds later.

"Good!" You address the bulky Black man in the dark security uniform. "Could you please tell the girl that I have an office on the top floor."

"I don't think so." the man replies, "But I can show you the exit. Follow me, Sir."

"No. I am the CEO. I own the company! My father James Pierce gave it to me!"

The security guard shrugs his shoulders and takes hold of your arm.

"As far as I know, Mr. Pierce has no children. Leave the premises, Sir."

"But... you can't treat me like that! Do you know who I am?"

The Black man doesn't reply, instead, he begins dragging you towards the door. Unsurprisingly, he is much stronger than you, and your expensive shoes drag over the marble tiles.

"You can't do this!" You yell. "I will sue the company! You will all lose your jobs, just watch!"

"Whatever you say, Sir." The man pushes you outside the building. You stumble a little and then turn around, but the door is already closing.

"Fuck you!" You shout after the guard.

You take a deep breath. Whatever is going on here, it's not good. What to do.

After some consideration, you decide to grab your wallet from your car and take a cab home. There, you will deal with all of this.

As you arrive at your car again, you come just in time to see it being towed away. All running behind it and shouting does not help. You almost cry as you see the towing truck disappear around a corner, along with your car, your wallet and everything else you left in there. As you turn around to leave the scene and walk home, the next disaster is already waiting for you. There is a muddy sinkhole in the sidewalk, left over from some construction work and you don't notice it until it's too late. The next moment, you find your right leg standing in stinking mud all up to your knee. You try to free your leg, of course, and it works, sort of. With a smacking noise, the mud swallows your right shoe whole and leaves you with one dirty sock.

This day can't possibly get any worse, you think, but you are wrong.

Half an hour later, you have to admit that you got lost entirely. You are in a part of the city you have not been in before. Usually, you navigate the city with your cars GPS, but that is not available. You try to use the cheap phone to find out where you are (stoically ignoring the fact that it unlocks just fine with your fingerprint) but the only thing you find is that whoever owns the device has not paid for mobile data. You are offline. You could, of course, ask someone, but it takes some courage to ask a stranger where you are, especially in your current state.

Finally, you realize that you have to ask someone if you want to get home anytime soon. Right now, you find yourself in front of a landfill, which is both a blessing and a curse. It smells absolutely disgusting, but at least the people working here should have a good idea on how you can get home.

You enter the building with the grimy walls and look around.

"Hello?", you ask into the empty room. You are just about to leave again, when a burly man comes from the back. He is at least a head taller than you and twice as broad. His clothing is dirty, and you can see tufts of body hair coming out the top of his shirt and his armpits. Absolutely revolting.

The man looks at you for a second before shrugging his shoulder.

"Whatever." he says. "What's your name, kid?"

Needless to say, you are confused. "I am Jameson Pierce. Could you please..."

However, the big man interrupts you again. "Fancy name. I'll call you Jerry, okay? Come with me, I'll show you around."

"Wh-what do you mean?", you stutter but follow the man automatically.

"You're the new hire, aren't you? Gotta say, you're pretty scrawny, Jerry. But the job has no requirements, so if you don't mind getting your hands dirty, you're gonna fit in fine. Here are the lockers. The name's Hank, by the way."

You look around. You are in a room with a dozen dirty lockers. There is a foul stench everywhere and you have to suppress the urge to gag.

"No, I'm not new here. And I don't want to work here, or get my hands dirty!" you protest, but Hank ignores your lamenting.

"It's not gonna be easy finding an overall in your size, but we have a few small ones here as well. By the way, the overalls are shared with the other boys, hope you don't mind. Ah here. Try this one."

Hank throws you an overall. It is, in theory, blue, but both your nose as well as your eyes tell you one thing: It is entirely unwashed. For days, possibly for weeks. The clothing reeks of sweat, dirt, piss and probably even more things that you don't even want to know about.

"What's wrong with you? I am not gonna wear that."

"Well, what did you think when you came here?" Hank is clearly amused. "You can't work in these clothes of yours, even if they are dirty enough. Come on, strip, while I look for boots."

"I won't do that." you say. However, Hank is already gone. You don't think about it too much and begin to take off your expensive clothes. It is almost painful, but for some reason you... have to? It's a difficult to describe feeling. The dirty blue overall is sitting next to you on the locker room bench and is almost inviting you. You can't help it. You just have to strip. Soon, you stand in the dirty locker room clad in only your silk boxer shorts. You didn't notice that every piece of clothing you have taken off somehow changed. Your expensive dress shirt became a cheap t-shirt with stains on it. Your pants turned into a pair of ripped jeans and your golden wrist watch just... vanished.

"If I were you, I would be going commando." Hank, who had returned with a pair of work boots you can smell from over there, comments. "You're going to move around a lot. Besides, all the boys are doing it.

You look at the overall again, almost gagging now. Some other guys have worn it, rubbing their bare asses and dicks into the fabric. And Hank expects you to do the same. Suddenly, you remember the smell. Sweat, piss and other smells. You shudder. You shudder in... anticipation? As you automatically lower your boxer shorts (who turn into plain cotton briefs as you do), you can feel yourself growing hard at the thought of stepping into this dirty overall. At the same time, you are disgusted beyond measure.

Still, it's almost like your arms are on auto-pilot as you step into the overall and pull it up around your naked body, until the disgusting smell envelops you.

"Glad you like it." Hank grins and playfully grabs your very obvious erection through the dirty fabric. "You might want to meet up with some of the boys here in the locker room after shift, I hear some of them need to release some steam after a good shift. Now, come on. Pull the boots and get moving, we don't have time to waste."

You stare blankly at the big man as you realize what he just said.

"Wait." you stutter. "You think... You think I'm..."

"You're gay." Hank interrupts. "No worries. A lot of the boys are."

You can't believe what he's saying. Gay? You?

"But I am not!"

Hank doesn't even seem surprised.

"You might want to tell that to your hard cock. Anyway. Boots."

He tosses the dirty boots in front of you, and you find yourself bending down to pull them up. They are a little bit too large and feel like they are made of rubber, not leather. As soon as you have both of them on, Hank nods approvingly and then grabs you by the arm, pulling you out of the locker room and towards the garbage truck.

The next few hours pass quickly. The other men (it seems the job has exclusively male company) are friendly but don't go easy on the "newcomer". Everybody calls you Jerry and you have to do the most disgusting work you have ever done: Hauling full bins to the truck, sorting through garbage, cleaning up spilled garbage from the streets. Still, nobody is complaining and so you don't, either. After all, there are more pressing concerns: You feel dirty, your whole body is covered in a thick layer of sweat and dust. Your hands are filthy, and so is your face. And the worst part of it all is: A part of you is enjoying it, a lot. At first, the part is strictly physical. You have a boner pretty much the whole time, and whenever you need to do something especially disgusting, it visibly and violently throbs against your work pants - a fact that doesn't escape the rest of the boys.

After a while, though, more changes set in. The full bins appear to become lighter and easier to move. Of course, that isn't the case: Your muscles grow in front of your eyes, and the overall, that was a bit too big, fits better and better. Hair starts to grow on your chest, your legs and arms, and stubble forms in your face. Your carefully maintained hairstyle dissolves into an unkempt mess on your head.

But the changes don't stop there. Overall, you feel like you are getting more and more youthful. You weren't terribly old to begin with, in your mid-thirties, but a strange energy makes you feel more like end-twenties, mid-twenties and finally, like a man who just turned 21.

At the same time, however, your personality changes as well. You start to talk less and less, and when you do, the words aren't quite as sharp as before. Your education slips away with every word you say, and your vocabulary is replaced by slang, often with a bit of swearing. It becomes more and more difficult to think, too. The boys quickly pick up on this and joke around you not being the sharpest. It's not that they're wrong. You're dumb, if you're being honest. School wasn't for you, so you dropped out at some point. Bit by bit, you really become Jerry, the dumb, sweaty, smelly garbageman. And Jerry, unlike Jameson, enjoys the dirt around him. You can hardly remember being a clean and smart businessman, and that's alright with you. Even though your thoughts are slower, however, the memories of your former self are not gone entirely. Every once in a while, you remember who you used to be. But at the latest when the shift ends and you and the rest of the horny boys are going to the locker room, you decide that this is, indeed, a simpler and a better life.

There is literally a metric ton of more pictures here, in my tip jar - variations of Jerry at the end. If you like my writing, consider joining the riot page for a tip (and ocassional additional pictures)

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #straight to gay

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flowerandblood · 6 months

Text

The Second One (1/2)

[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]

[ warnings: angst, kissing, physical violence, swearing, toxic relationship, toxic behaviour, manipulation ]

[ description: On the occasion of their grandfather's birthday, her older sister, Alys, comes to their house and introduces her partner to their family, who from the very beginning arouses her concern with his behavior. After a series of unpleasant words and arguments, he visits her in her room in the night, paying her a strange, ambiguous visit. Dark, manipulative, bitchy Aemond. Anon request. ]

This is Part 1 of The Loved One

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

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Her family decided to throw a party for her grandfather at their house to celebrate his 90th birthday, at which her older sister appeared for the first time with her partner. She was surprised that her man was so young and thought with shock that the age difference between them was at least 10 years.

She and her never understood each other very well, as Alys pursued her goals over dead bodies. After many years, she realised that she could not trust her, that she had to be careful with her words around her. She loved her and tried to accept her as she was, but she couldn't be her friend.

Nor did it seem to her that Alys could ever see her as such.

She introduced the man she had come with perfunctorily, a scar on his left cheek, it seemed to her, looking at him from a distance, that one of his eyes was artificial, shining strangely in the light of the chandelier.

He was dressed all in black in a tight jumper and fitted trousers, standing with his hands folded in front of him like a bodyguard, not paying much attention to what his sister was saying, biting his lower lip.

She thought that he didn't want to be here at all.

She shuddered when their gazes met for a long moment. Instead of looking away, however, she felt a sense of discomfort as she saw the way his eyes ran shamelessly over her entire body, the tip of his tongue hitting the side of his cheek.

She left the room deciding she didn't want to look at it, walking out through the back door into the garden.

Alys always overshadowed her, she felt small and bland in her presence. Her older sister could make a good impression when she wanted to, she was extremely feminine and confident, mysterious, a true femme fatale. She was very successful in the fashion industry, modeling for many years, her face on the front pages of the world's magazines.

Unsurprisingly, she did not seek the friendship of her younger sister, who was a nobody next to her, a little girl playing at studying literary history. She loved reading, in the world of books she could be whoever she wanted, she could be the only one, the main character in the story.

Despite what she was feeling, she tried not to show her or anyone else her pain, focusing on her friends from her studies and the fact that she really liked what she was doing, recognising that getting into university thanks to her results without being forced to pay tuition fees was also some kind of success, something her parents always emphasised.

She sat on the grass taking advantage of the fact that it was a pleasant summer evening, due to living far outside the city boundaries she could admire the stars that stretched above her across the cloudless dark sky.

She heard the sound of a door being pushed open and slid shut and thought it was her father smoking compulsively. She smiled as she heard someone's footsteps heading in her direction being sure it was him, hearing the sound of a lighter being fired up and the hiss of a cigarette.

She glanced over her shoulder and froze seeing the man Alys had come with looking at her intently. She pulled back slightly as he sat down next to her, shocked to feel her heart pounding, knowing it was strange to say the least, she felt uncomfortable.

He held out his hand to her with his cigarette and she shook her head without looking at him, wondering if she should return home. He grinned, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.

"Are you running away from her too?" He asked with some kind of amusement, his voice low, deep, slightly hoarse. She felt a shudder at his words and looked at him uneasily with a expression of surprise on her face, wondering what he was implying.

She was running away from whom?

From Alys?

She swallowed loudly, recognising that his words were rude. They might not have liked each other, but she was her sister.

"Why be with someone you're running away from?" She asked frustrated, wondering if he had come to arouse her sister's jealousy, to tease her at her expense.

She had no intention of getting dragged into any of their games.

She felt a tightening in her throat when he looked at her with some kind of mockery, before responding he pressed his cigarette to his lips and took a deep drag, letting the smoke out along with his words.

"She can fuck well." He hummed, as if it was a normal, decent response. She shook her head in disbelief and stood up, moving ahead, leaving him alone. She entered her house and passed Alys, who wanted to ask her a question.

"Did you perhaps see −"

"− in the garden."

She couldn't look at him for the entire dinner and, as if he was doing it on purpose, he took the seat opposite her before Alys could decide for him where they would sit. She told him to move closer to her mother, but he settled comfortably in his chair, playing with his fork.

"No. I'm fine here." He muttered, throwing her a long, meaningful look. She pressed her lips together, swallowing loudly, feeling sick to her stomach.

She thought they were both worthy of each other.

She had no idea what their relationship was, but Alys liked to live on the edge and perhaps that was what she experienced with him.

Extreme emotions.

Her older sister finally sat down next to him, noticing her at last, asking her questions out of politeness that she didn't feel like answering, seeing him looking at her with a smirk that made her sick.

What kind of man was this?

"How are you doing in your studies? What are you reading now? Any poetry?" She asked in her soft, low, feminine voice, taking a sip of wine, fixing her long black hair.

She exhaled quietly, swallowing hard, looking down at her plate, on which lay an uneaten piece of meat.

"I'm reading the prose of Witold Gombrowicz right now. He's a Polish writer." She explained, convinced that her sister would certainly not know who it was, she, however, surprised her as she blinked, looking at her partner in wonder.

"Gombrowicz… do you by any chance have books by this author in your flat, Aemond?" She asked him curiously, his gaze, however, not even paying her a moment's attention, fixed on her, making her feel like sinking to the ground.

"Yes." He replied briefly, with some kind of satisfaction from which she grew hot, feeling uncomfortable with the idea that she had any interest in common with the man who sat before her. Alys stirred in her chair, intrigued.

"That's interesting. Well, tell me, little sister, what this Gombrowicz is writing about." She said lightly, putting a bit of salad on her plate.

She felt some kind of humiliation at her words, like a monkey in a circus who was now going to juggle her knowledge for her enjoyment. She sighed quietly, giving up, having no idea how to explain it to her.

"It's complicated." She said truthfully, and her sister snorted.

"Don't you know what you're reading about? What are they teaching you in these studies?" She asked with lively amusement, and she felt a tightening in her throat and tears pushing at her eyes, which she held back with difficulty.

She exhaled and looked at the man sitting in front of her, staring at her expectantly, intrigued as to what she would do, how she would answer, the fingers of his hand rubbing against each other in a gesture of anticipation.

"Gombrowicz uses difficult metaphors, swaps out certain words, using other, infantile ones in their place. Most of it is written as if he himself is the protagonist of events, it is like his stream of consciousness, the plot is simultaneously present and absent.

What all his books have in common is that he is a broken man, rejected by Poland and the Poles because he fled to Argentina on the Transatlantic right after the outbreak of the Second World War instead of staying and fighting.

Everything he writes about is his relationship with his country, which he loves and hates, which he longs for and abhors, his despair about his sexuality and his psyche. He wrote all his life in Polish, but he did not return to Poland, the communists did not want to publish his work.

He was unable to express his feelings in another language and although he was considered a traitor, in my opinion his true feeling for his country, the enormity of his suffering in seeing how much poison there was in his nation, which he pointed his fingers at when others praised it to the skies, is expressed in his work.

He is, in my opinion, an outstanding author." She said on practically one exhale, grabbing her glass of water and taking a deep sip from it, setting it down with a loud clink of glass, not looking at them, breathing with difficulty, feeling her heart pounding hard.

Her sister blinked, raising her eyebrows, shaking her head.

"Oh, Mother, so many long sentences, and I still don't know exactly what his books are about. Anyway, I'm glad that you're doing well with your studies." She said lightly, and she shuddered to see a wide, dangerous smile spread across the lips of the man before her.

He was enjoying what was happening.

He drew satisfaction from it.

Her sister went back to eating, turning to their aunt across the table, not seeing that she was struggling to hold back tears of humiliation.

Nor did she see the way her partner looked at her sister, unaware that he was giving her far too much attention.

She thought they were both fucked up.

She knew that another half hour at the most and she could run upstairs to her room saying she would go to bed and leave this whole gathering.

She saw Aemond grab a bottle of wine and pour himself half a glass, her sister threw him a puzzled, upset look.

"You're driving, aren't you?" She burbled, and he hummed under his breath, taking a deep sip. He set his glass down without looking at her.

"Not anymore. I'm tired."

She felt a tightening in her pit at the thought that he was trying to make them stay here instead of going back to the city.

She thought the last thing she wanted was to listen to them moaning on the other side of the wall and looked away, resigned and tired.

According to her plan, after several minutes she said a polite goodbye to everyone and said she would go to bed now, not honouring him or her sister with a single glance.

She changed into her pyjamas consisting of a T-shirt and shorts and locked her door, wanting to make sure no one tried to enter her room.

She swallowed loudly when, an hour later, she heard their voices in the corridor, lifting her gaze from the book she had just been reading in the light of her bedside lamp while sitting on her bed.

"I told you already, I don't want to stay here overnight. Let's order an Uber." Her sister insisted, she could hear her muffled, frustrated voice.

"And I told you I am tired. I'd like to finally fucking rest. You wanted me to come, I came, and now I want to go to bed. Is that so fucking much?" She heard his low, angry voice and felt discomfort at the thought of hearing every word knowing that this was their private conversation.

"Can you keep your voice down? Do you always have to act like a little child? And why are you looking like a pervert at my little sister, huh? Do you think I can't see? Do you want to fuck her?" She hissed out in a whisper, and she felt her heart pounding hard, ashamed, embarrassed and horrified by her words, by the fact that she had noticed it and pretended that nothing had happened.

She heard his low chuckle.

"Maybe I want to. Maybe she wouldn't act like a bitch to me like you do." He growled and she heard a loud splat followed by complete silence.

She slapped him.

She stared at her door, breathing unevenly, swallowing her saliva with difficulty, wondering if she should come out and intervene or if it was better to stay quiet.

"Get the fuck out of my house." She hissed and he laughed, as if her words amused him.

"Fuck no. I'll stay here overnight and drive home in the morning by my car. If you want, order an Uber. Sorry −"

She heard someone come upstairs and from the way he spoke she deduced that it was her mother.

"− will it be a problem if I stay here overnight? I feel bad and I wouldn't want to go back to the city in this condition." He said lowly, there was silence again, she thought despairingly that her mother didn't know what to do, having surely heard at least some of their argument.

"− I − yes − of course −" She muttered after a while. She heard the sound of a door opening on the other side of the corridor, their voices becoming increasingly indistinct.

Then she heard the loud clatter of Alys' heels, her and her mother's voices as they ran down the stairs.

"Fucking bastard." Said her sister, their mother trying to reassure her.

"− after all, I can't just throw him out, since you invited him −"

She heard the loud slamming of the front door. She got up on trembling legs and walked slowly to the window, seeing her sister lighting a cigarette with trembling hands, wiping her cheeks.

She cried.

She felt a squeeze in her heart at the sight, and even though she had hurt her so often with her words, she felt sorry for her. After a moment, she saw an Uber pull up in front of their house, and she got into it and just drove off.

She swallowed loudly at the thought that she had gone, but he had stayed.

What was he planning?

She turned off her lamp, hiding under her duvet, swallowing loudly, listening for any sounds. She felt restless, she couldn't fall asleep and she shivered feeling her heart pounding hard.

She felt that something was about to happen.

She shuddered, snapped out of a deep sleep when she heard a quiet knock on her door. She glanced quickly at her phone's display and saw that it was two o'clock in the morning.

She looked at her door, figuring that if she didn't get up he would go away, but he knocked again. She covered her face with her hands, feeling tears under her eyelids with fear.

"Please, go away. Please." She said pleadingly wanting him to take pity on her, not having the strength for it, for their pushing and shoving, for him to fuck her now when in a week's time they'd be back together with her sister, looking for thrills, hating and loving each other like two elements.

She had no intention of being anyone's plaything.

"I want to talk about Gombrowicz." He said lowly and she groaned loudly, licking her lips, shaking her head.

"It's two in the morning." She muttered beggingly, not understanding completely what he had in mind.

"I'm not going until we talk about him." He said after a moment in a matter-of-fact, cool tone, and she sighed heavily, stood up and walked to the door, turning the key.

She opened it for him and there he was, standing in front of her, looking down at her with an indifferent expression on his face. He stepped inside as if nothing had happened, walking up to her window and opening it wide, pulling cigarettes and a lighter from the back pocket of his trousers.

She thought surprised that she had never met such an insolent man in her life and simply closed the door behind him, sitting down on her bed, leaning her back against the wall, covering her bare legs with the duvet.

He didn't look at her but out of the window, straight into the night, his face lit by the warm flame of the fire, his cigarette hissed and lit. He took a drag of it, settling comfortably on her wide windowsill, silent for a long moment.

"Have you read Trans-Atlantyk?" He asked at last indifferently, still not looking at her while letting the smoke out with his mouth, his face turned in profile to her. She swallowed loudly, all tense, wrapping her knees with her hands.

"Yes." She replied quietly.

Silence fell between them again, broken only by the hiss of his cigarette each time he took a drag.

"What do you think about it?" He asked at last, just as matter-of-factly and dispassionately, and she pressed her lips together, sleepy and tired.

"That it's his best book." She said truthfully, throwing him a depressed, exhausted look.

She didn't have the strength for this.

She just wanted to go to sleep.

"Why?" He continued, and she sighed heavily, placing her forehead on her knees.

"Because it is his response to what has been going on around him. It is his answer to all the accusations made against him. Proof that his country was not at all indifferent to him - on the contrary, although he wanted to, he could not eradicate it from his heart. He saw what was poisoning his country from within. What was destroying it and he had the courage to speak out about it.

He spoke of it with irony and contempt, but when you read into his words, there is only deep feeling and regret there, regret that his country cannot be what he would like, what he needs, what he loves, but his people do not reciprocate this feeling, do not see the need to change, that everything is declining.

His feelings are complicated, but therefore true, because he shows that there are no easy answers. Out of the chaos of his thoughts there emerges some truth, some core, and although elusive, although dressed up in humour and irony that made me laugh, after reading this book I wanted to cry."

She said exactly what she felt, regardless of whether he was listening or not. She heard him hum at her words, silent for a long moment, his cigarette almost completely burnt out.

"After I first read this book I couldn't sleep. I felt anxious. As if I had suddenly entered someone's mind, heard their private thoughts and then no longer knew whether I or the author was thinking about something. I had never felt anything like that before." He said low, calmly, running his tongue over his lower lip, dropping his cigarette into her glass of water that stood on her desk.

She looked at him uncertainly noticing that his face was no longer so tense and aggressive, he was lying comfortably spread out, leaning his back against a wall, pulling another cigarette from his pack.

She considered his words in silence, recognising with surprise that she understood what he was talking about, that she had in fact felt the same way when she read this author's books.

"Can I sleep here with you?" He asked suddenly, and she threw him a shocked, horrified look. She watched him nonchalantly light another cigarette.

What?

"− no − I − God −" She mumbled out, burying her face in her hands, wanting to tell him that he was just terrifying her, that what he was asking was wrong in so many different ways and was putting her in a very awkward position.

"− I can sleep on the floor − I won't touch you −" He said finally looking at her, letting out a puff of smoke with a quiet hiss of his lips. She couldn't tell what she saw in that look, dark, cold, proud.

She felt a certain discomfort looking at his face, feeling that it was some kind of game, that he was testing her.

"I don't believe you. You want to have fun at my expense, but I don't feel like it. We've talked, now leave. Please." She said quietly, looking bravely into his face, trying to sound as soft as possible. She had no intention of offending him, she just wanted him to let her alone.

He, however, was still sitting in the same place and still looking at her.

"I don't love your sister." He said lightly, as if he were talking about the weather, and she snorted, shaking her head.

"I don't care. She cried today because of you after she left our house. You're insolent and unpleasant, intruding on me in my own home and making me feel uncomfortable." She choked out, frustrated and angry, furrowing her brow, feeling that she was losing patience.

He, however, chuckled lowly at her words, amused, shaking the ash from his cigarette out of the window.

"She was crying? That's interesting. She didn't give a shit that you almost cried because of her at the table." He murmured, glancing at her curiously, clearly wanting to check her reaction. She pressed her lips together at his words.

"It's none of your business. Get out." She said dryly, and he stood up, approaching her slowly, crouching in front of her bed, placing his elbows on her bedding, the cigarette in his mouth, which he lightly removed with his hand as he caught his balance.

"She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don't know how to dress well, don't know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there's nothing to talk to you about because you can't converse about anything interesting." He mused, taking another drag, cocking his head with curiosity.

She felt pain in her heart at his words and tightness in her throat, her fingers clenched on the material of her duvet, her eyebrows arching in anguish. She felt tears under her eyelids again, but she didn't want to give this bastard any satisfaction.

"Get out." She repeated coolly in a trembling voice, looking at him coldly.

"But when I saw you today I understood why she said that. Because you're pretty. Because you're kind. Polite and cultured. Because you can talk about high literature, and she just doesn't understand what you're talking about. You don't have to spend hours applying make-up, wearing deep necklines and tight dresses to be naturally beautiful. To attract and intrigue. She's fucking jealous of you, little one." He hummed and she felt a shudder at the way he called her, thinking how inappropriate it was, she pressed her body against the wall, wanting to be as far away from him and his words as possible, feeling hot, thinking that he was manipulating her.

"Did you tell her what she wanted to hear too, before you got bored?" She asked with derision, the corner of her mouth twitching in a mocking smile. She saw his gaze darken, licking his lower lip involuntarily as if he recognised that he was accepting her challenge.

"I didn't have to say much. She prefers to fuck, you know? To feel desired." He murmured low, taking another drag, looking at her expectantly, some dangerous glint in his eye.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked finally, feeling that she didn't have the strength for it, that she just wanted him to leave her alone. He smirked in a way that made her feel a shiver.

"Just so you know the problem isn't with you." He said lightly, as if it was obvious, and she shook her head unable to follow his train of thought.

"Why are you with her if you despise her?" She asked, spreading her hands in a gesture of despair, feeling that she was on the verge of a nervous breakdown, her voice slightly raised and trembling.

"Because she has big tits and a big ass. Because she sucks cock well." He said calmly and she shook her head, feeling embarrassed by his words, feeling as one by one tears began to run down her cheeks.

She covered her face with her hands, feeling that it was too much for her, that they were both worthy of each other.

Why was he meddling her in their affairs?

"− hey − hey, little one −" He whispered, she felt the mattress next to her bend under his weight and she immediately jumped back, terrified, pushing him away, shaking her head.

"− no − please, no, leave −" She mumbled out, but he just put his arms around her and pressed her against his chest, she could hear his heart beating fast, he smelled of wine, cigarettes and some intense, masculine perfume.

"− please, let me go −" She wailed through her tears, but he hushed her, his free hand stroking her hair, the other holding his cigarette.

She felt him lean his back against the wall and settle into a half-lying position, drawing her with him, his large, warm hand roaming over her head and back, in some strange, irrational way making her feel comfortable.

"− cry −" He whispered quietly with some kind of understanding, as if he knew what she was going through, and although she didn't want to, she allowed herself to burst into sobs, along with her tears flowing out of her all the years she felt next to her sister like nobody.

She didn't want to come off as the jealous one, the one who couldn't enjoy other people's successes, but she understood that Alys never praised her sincerely, everything she said was the bare minimum so that no one could accuse her of being judgmental towards her.

She felt bad at the thought of sobbing in her man's embrace, cuddled up to his chest, but she couldn't help it, she didn't have the strength anymore, she just wanted to sleep, to simply rest.

"− it's okay, little one − I know −" He hummed stroking her hair with slow, tender movements, playing with her curls once in a while, smoking his cigarette, which he held in his other hand, the pleasant, cool night air breezing over her warm, red cheeks.

They were both quiet, lying like that in silence, looking towards the window. She sniffed with her nose and snuggled into him, surrendering.

She thought that if he tried to rape her she would start screaming loudly to wake her family, but some subconscious feeling told her that he wouldn't do it.

That for some reason he too sought comfort in her.

"− I'm done with her, you know? − after what I saw today − after the way she spoke to you I realised that she has no respect not only for me, but even for her immediate family − I was deluding myself that she was only saying that to me because I'm a piece of shit, but I was wrong −" He murmured quietly, weariness and discouragement in his voice. She swallowed loudly, trembling in his embrace.

"You don't speak respectfully to her either." She whispered resentfully, wondering if he really thought he was blameless.

He chuckled quietly at her words and she shuddered when she felt him kiss her hair as if they had been close, as if they had known each other for years. He rested his chin on the top of her head, playing with her hair.

"− that's true − but I don't pretend to be a saint − I know what I want and I make it clear − she hides her desires behind pretty, empty words −" He grunted, stroking her head with a calm, steady motion of his hand.

For some reason what he was doing was calming her down, she was no longer so frightened, though she still felt strange and uncomfortable.

"If you make it clear what you want, why don't you say why you came here?" She asked with a grudge, feeling pain at the thought of him toying with her and getting exactly what he wanted. He hummed, letting the smoke out through his nose.

"I already told you. I want to talk to you about Gomborowicz and sleep in the same bed with you." He murmured low, kissing her head again, nuzzling the tip of his nose into her hair.

She felt bad at the thought that for some reason it was pleasurable, that she felt a sense of satisfaction that she was now the one in bed with him and not her sister.

She shuddered when his hand slid up to her face and lifted her chin, forcing her to rise her head. She drew in a loud breath when she felt his lips immediately pressed to hers, soft, wet and hot, his tobacco-tasting tongue invading deep into her throat making her feel throbbing between her thighs.

She pressed her hand against his sleek black jumper, ashamed and terrified that she didn't have the strength to resist him, that she was taking pleasure in the way his fingers stroked her cheek gently as their tongues met and licked with a loud, lewd click, rough and sticky from their saliva, his cigarette slowly burning out in his other hand.

She wasn't sure she'd ever been so terrified and aroused at the same time, her heart pounding like mad, she felt her moisture between her thighs, she clenched her legs tightly to relieve herself any way she could.

She knew he felt it, his hand slid from her face down her back to her buttocks and slipped from behind between her thighs, his fingers pressed against the material of her shorts, massaging her there in sure, slow, circular motions.

"No." She mumbled and pulled away from him, terrified, feeling that this had gone too far, that she couldn't do this, that she wouldn't let him take advantage so that he could then laugh in Alys face with the satisfaction that her little sister had welcomed him between her thighs with joy.

They stared at each other with eyes wide open, breathing embarrassingly loudly.

"Come here."

"Please, get out."

"Come."

She felt her heart pounding hard, felt that they were now fighting each other for dominance, for who would have the last word, who would give in.

"If you don't leave, I'm going to get up and wake my parents saying that you came to my room in the middle of the night and you won't leave me alone." She said dryly and he pressed his lips together feeling that her words were final, that she wasn't joking.

"You don't want me to leave." He whispered lowly pressing his lips together, breathing unevenly, his cigarette extinguished.

She swallowed loudly involuntarily glancing down and felt a shudder as she saw the bulge in his trousers.

He was hard.

She shook her head feeling her tears gather in the corners of her eyes again.

"I can't, I'm sorry, it was a mistake. I don't want to do it, not like this, it's wrong. Fuck!" She cursed, knowing it had gone too far anyway, burying her face in her hands, heartbroken that she could have done such a thing to her own sister.

She heard him rose lazily, dropping his second cigarette into her glass of water. He looked at her over his shoulder in a way that made her feel a tightness in her throat.

"I'm sorry, little one. I didn't mean to hurt you. Really." He said lowly with some kind of pain and just walked out, leaving her alone at last.

She collapsed on her bed, covering herself with her duvet up to her head, wanting to hide, to disappear, to sink into the ground.

She couldn't believe how close it was.

How close it was for them to fuck.

She cried her eyes out terrified that she felt tension between her thighs, that she was aroused.

That some part of her wanted him to come back and finish what he had started.

She was awakened in the morning by the loud banging of the front door of her house. She got up quickly, walking over to her open window, looking out of it into her driveway.

She saw him open his car door and give her one last look, as if he hoped he would see her there. She felt a strange tightening in her heart and pain, tears under her eyelids.

He stepped inside and closed the door behind him with a slam, after a moment she heard the muffled sound of music and the whirr of an engine.

She watched with a blank stare as he drove away and disappeared around the corner, pressing her forehead against the frame of her window, feeling a stream of tears begin to run down her cheeks.

She wiped her face with her hands, heartbroken that this man had brought her to such a state in one evening, and turned away, wanting to return to her bed.

She froze, spotting something white on the floor beneath her door. After a moment, she noticed that it was a folded piece of paper and she walked over to it quickly, picking it up from the floor and opening it. There was only one sentence written inside.

I wish I had met you before her.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@its-actually-minicika @notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy

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starboyjun · 2 months

Text

tw: fire, death, unaliving

zayne, leon (the emperor reverses time)

zayne would be the cursed/feared [cold] duke of the north. he would have a hard time expressing his emotions because of his punishment for reversing time to be with you again. in his first life, he resented you because of the arranged marriage he was forced into because the emperor forced him to marry to take his place as duke of his kingdom. you were also forced but zayne was upset and blamed it on you. after your death he realizes how much he cared for you even though he didn't recognize his feelings. he went crazy and found a way to reverse time to be with you. this time, he won't make the same mistakes again.

rafayel, jade (I turned my childhood friend into a tyrant)

rafayel would be a second prince who is your childhood friend. you're engaged to his older brother but since you became his closest friend people wonder if you're becoming greedy for power since you befriended both princes. because of that people started to hate you and that became the cause of your death. rafayel is a playful, teasing friend who's ambitions are to become the crown prince so he can have you by his side. he's always loved you since you two were children. he left for a different country to study and came back to seeing you about to engulfed in fire. he then killed himself after you died. he vowed to find you again and cherish the memories you have together instead of ruining your future. hes see then your countless deaths he tried to prevent then his new life, he tried to avoid you but you just keep coming back to him. how can he avoid you when you're approaching him with such a heart melting smile?

xavier, mikhael (the princess imprints the traitor)

xavier is your beloved knight, you are a royal, 2nd to the throne. xavier has longed for you since the beginning of his service to you. your calmness, elegance, charisma making him fall hard for you. but he can't show it, he's scared he might scare you with his love. he dreams of being by your side not only as youe knight but as your husband. he wants to wake up by your side, lounge in the sun, be able to kiss you whenever he wants. he knows that's impossible, a knight with no title marrying the princess? that is unheard of. so he plots to overthrow the throne a king can marry anybody right? so he does it successfully but when he comes to your side, you unalived yourself... so he begs the gods to reverse time. so he tries again a second chance in his hands, and fails as you get poisoned. the third time, he stops dreaming about being by your side. he tries not to stand out during his knight training but you come to him first making him your knight... will his dream about able being by your side come true?

bonus: caleb, rayburn (I'm stanning the prince)

caleb is prominently overshadowed by his impressive and successful siblings and so he never thought of somebody liking him as much as you do. when you came into his life you brought colors and feelings to his bleak life. he loved it... but he as nervous that one day you'd be swept off your feet by a guy a thousand times better than him. you day you'd stay by his side forever but how long will it take for you to break it?

#love and deepspace #isekai manhwa #manhwa x reader #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x reader #xavier love and deepspace #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel x reader #xavier x reader #lads zayne #lads rafayel #lads x reader #lads xavier

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pengweng-quack · 1 month

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Let’s Get Married in Vegas

Gojo Satoru x Reader (uses second person though mentions of Y/N Y/L/N)

Summary: You and Gojo got drunkenly married in Vegas

Notes:

The song was continuously playing on my TikTok so here we are

Word Count: 1721 words

Masterlist

It began innocently enough, with just you and Gojo going out to a bar in Vegas for a laid-back evening. After experiencing enough hard days together, the prospect of enjoying some cocktails and laughs sounded like the ideal cure.

The discussion flowed effortlessly as the evening drew on, broken only by fits of laughing and glasses clinking. The bartender recognized you and kept the shots coming without asking any questions. One shot became two, and two shots became four before you lost count how many you and Gojo had taken already.

The competitive side of you two quickly surfaced, as it frequently did in circumstances like this. But instead of the usual competition to see who could drink the most, it devolved into a playful fight to see who was the biggest lightweight. Each successive shot seemed to blur the lines between reality and the carefree abandon of the moment.

“Babe, I think we should go home now.” Gojo stammered, unable to keep his eyes open, his words mumbling together. With his head firmly resting on the table, his breath was hardly audible over the background sounds of the pub.

“Great idea, you're a genius!” You giggled, struggling to keep your balance as you and Gojo stood up, both of you swaying slightly in the process

"Don't fall for me." He replied, his words punctuated by a giddy grin, "I know I'm cute."

While rolling your eyes, you grabbed Gojo's hand, fingers entwined, and pulled him out of the bar. Your movements faltered and you mumbled apologies every time you or Gojo unintentionally bumped into someone.

The world outside seemed to be a blur, with your laughing blending with the noises of the nighttime city as you walked along the sidewalk together under the long shadows made by the streetlights. As you lurched along arm in arm with your boyfriend, there was a feeling of freedom and excitement in the air despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses.

With only the comfort of each other's presence and the hope of home to guide you, every step was an adventure and every stumble a moment of shared laughter as you made your way through the night.

In his presence, you felt a sense of completeness, a feeling that you had finally found your partner in crime, your companion for life's journey.

And as you leaned into him, the warmth of his presence comforting you despite the chill of the night air, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be and who you were meant to be with.

"We should get married!" You drunk yelled as you walk pass the License Bureau

"You're so smart! This is why you're the cutest, most loveliest, person that I love so much!" Gojo yelled happily, standing up straight and pulling you in the place

After you and Gojo laughed and occasionally got confused when navigating through the necessary papers, you both found yourselves ready to exchange vows in front of the altar with an officiant. Between you, jokes and side looks threatened to overshadow the seriousness of the situation as giggles burst into your conversation like an uncontrollable force.

"I vow to cherish every delicate fold of your paper origami creations, each one a testament to your boundless creativity. They will be more than mere artworks to me; they will be precious reminders of your genius, displayed lovingly throughout our home, filling it with the enchantment of your talent. And I promise to share this enchantment with the world, inviting others to marvel at your skill and spreading the joy you bring far and wide."

"I promise to take on any task that weighs heavy on your shoulders, willingly shouldering the burdens you bear. In fact, I'd gladly take on all the chores if you'd allow it, ensuring that you never have to lift a finger again."

"With each beat of my heart, in this life and beyond, I pledge my undying love to you. Every breath I take is dedicated to you, my beloved, filling the air with the essence of our bond."

"I swear to love you not only in this lifetime but in every lifetime that follows, my dearest Y/N Y/L/N-Gojo. Across the vast expanse of time, my love for you will endure, unwavering and eternal."

You smiled tenderly as you heard Gojo recite something from the bottom of his heart, and you could feel his love for you, like a warm hug. His remarks struck a deep chord, underscoring the extent of his love and dedication to you even in his intoxicated state.

You realized then that his commitments were promises carved into his very nature, connecting him to you in an unbreakable tie of love and devotion, and that his vows were more than just words.

“I vow to pour my heart and soul into every delicate fold of paper, infusing each origami masterpiece with the same love and reverence that I hold for you. While I'm thrilled for others to marvel at the beauty of my works, I humbly ask that you keep my struggles a secret, the moments when I nearly surrendered, for they are small sacrifices in comparison to the joy they bring to you.”

“Your willingness to take on all chores touches me deeply, but I vow to uphold our partnership equally. Let our home be a sanctuary where we both find solace and comfort. For it will be us against the world and not just you protecting me from the world anymore.”

��I solemnly swear to defy fate itself if it means spending eternity by your side. Today and in every lifetime to come, I will fight for us, refusing to accept anything less than a lifetime intertwined with yours.”

“Today, tomorrow, and for all the days that follow, I promise to love you more deeply than words can express. In every lifetime, in every incarnation, even if we’re not Satoru Gojo or Y/N Y/L/N, my heart will beat for you alone, endlessly and unconditionally.”

Joyous tears roll down your cheeks, blending with whispered vows and laughter. Your heartbeat rhythmically matches Gojo’s while the officiant explains the intricacies of marriage, since you both know deep down that this moment, which resulted from inebriated choices, is what you both genuinely want.

Between the vows, between the paperwork and the etiquette, your spoken words have ulterior motives. You know you'll never regret this union, even though it was sped up by a wild night of celebration.

Your souls become more and more entwined with each word spoken and gaze exchanged, bound together by an inexplicable love. Although the path to this point may not have been typical, there is no denying the extent of your dedication.

Standing hand in hand, you look at each other, and in that silent moment, you both admit the reality that this is where you belong. This marriage, which was created impulsively, is the best choice you have ever made.

The rest of the night becomes a whirlwind of joy and excitement. Sometime after the ceremony, you and Gojo share a deep, passionate kiss in front of the chapel where you exchanged vows. Cheers erupt from bystanders who witness the tender moment, adding to the magic of the evening.

As you make your way back to the hotel, laughter fills the air as you loudly hum various wedding tunes, your heart overflowing with happiness. You announce your newlywed status to anyone who catches your eye, spreading the contagious joy of your union to all who cross your path.

With each step, the world seems to sparkle a little brighter, and as you finally arrive at your hotel, hand in hand with your beloved, you know that this night will be etched in your memories forever. It's a celebration of love, spontaneity, and the beautiful journey that lies ahead as partners in life.

When the morning came, you sighed and grudgingly opened your eyes as the morning sunlight crept through the curtains, wincing at the brightness that seemed to intensify the pounding headache you were trying to nurse.

“What the fuck was last night?” You muttered, your voice hoarse as you struggled to piece together the events of the previous evening.

Blinking away the haze of sleep, you finally focused on the figure standing before you. Gojo stood there, clutching a handful of papers, his expression a mix of astonishment and disbelief

“Last night was this.” Gojo answered, passing the papers to you

With shaky hands, you accepted them, and the big words "Marriage Certificate" emblazoned at the top caught your attention right away. You were completely confused, but as you quickly reviewed the document, a wave of memories from the previous evening suddenly came back to you, helping you piece together the sequence of events that had led to this.

“We’re married.” You stated plainly, staring at Gojo with wide eyes as the reality sank in.

“Do you not want to be?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he turned towards the kitchen of your hotel room

“Of course I do! I just— I’m very confused.” You rambled nervously, feeling the need to clarify as you hurried to catch up with him

“I’m glad, because I’d love to marry you again.” Gojo declared, turning around with a mischievous grin. In his hand, he held a beautiful diamond engagement ring nestled in a red velvet box, the vivid blue of the diamond sparkling brilliantly under the room's light

“I think I remember most of what I said last night. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you give me the honor of reciting it again, this time sober and in front of people that we care about?” Gojo asked, his voice filled with sincerity as he gracefully went down on one knee, presenting the ring to you with a heartfelt gaze

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you give me the honor of marrying you, again?”

You weren't even sure if you gave him a proper answer, your heart racing as you mirrored his gesture, sinking to your knees and pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a silent affirmation, one that spoke volumes without the need for words. In that moment, you knew your answer was clear.

You were more than ready to marry him again.

Sober, this time.

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nayziiz · 3 days

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Jealousy, Jealousy | OP81

Lost & Found | OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Author's note: I'm trying something a little bit different with shorter form fics, so please send through any requests or feedback. These one shots will likely not have a second part unless it really speaks to me to continue with it. Thank you!

Masterlist

Oscar thrived on the energy you brought to the paddock during race weekends. Your mere presence seemed to anchor him amidst the whirlwind of anticipation and nerves that often accompanied such high-stakes events. Amidst the chaos of the paddock, your steady presence provided him with a sense of comfort and confidence, acting as a stabilising force in the midst of the adrenaline-fueled atmosphere.

Your support didn't just stop at being physically present; it extended to an unwavering encouragement that boosted his morale and mental fortitude. Knowing that you were there, cheering him on from the sidelines, fueled his determination to perform at his best. Your belief in him mirrored his own, serving as a constant reminder of his capabilities and potential.

But perhaps most significantly, your presence seemed to translate into tangible results on the track. Whenever you were there to celebrate with him, Oscar's performance seemed to reach new heights. It was as if your support had a direct correlation to his success, as if your belief in him propelled him forward, pushing him to push the boundaries of his own abilities.

As the weekend unfolded, Oscar found solace in your company, relishing every moment spent together, from leisurely strolls around the paddock to shared lunches and casual conversations while watching replays in the garage. Your presence brought him a sense of contentment, grounding him amidst the intensity of race weekends.

However, a shadow fell over his contentment when he noticed you chatting with Lando. The sight of you laughing at Lando's jokes, your hand resting casually on his arm, ignited a surge of jealousy within Oscar. He couldn't help but feel a pang of insecurity as he observed the easy rapport between you and his teammate, the way Lando's eyes seemed to light up in response to your laughter.

In that moment, Oscar's contentment gave way to a gnawing sense of unease. He couldn't shake the feeling of being sidelined, of watching from the sidelines as you shared a connection with someone he considered a friend. The laughter that had once brought him joy now rang hollow in his ears, overshadowed by the discomfort of seeing you engage with another driver in such a familiar manner.

Later, as Oscar stumbled upon you engrossed in conversation with Pato, a surge of frustration and hurt bubbled up within him. The sight of you hanging onto Pato's every word, your gaze fixed attentively on him, felt like a blow to Oscar's ego. It seemed as though you were captivated by Pato's presence, absorbing his insights and perspectives with an eagerness that Oscar found difficult to stomach.

For Oscar, this encounter with Pato served as a painful reminder of his own perceived insignificance in your eyes. Throughout the day, he had watched as you effortlessly connected with various people in the paddock, never sparing a moment to seek him out or engage with him in the same way. It was as if he didn't even register on your radar, as if his presence didn't matter to you at all.

As Oscar observed you leaning in closely, preoccupied in conversation with a mechanic as he explained the intricate details of Oscar's car, a wave of possessiveness and protectiveness washed over him. Though outwardly composed, inwardly, Oscar's emotions roiled like a storm ready to break.

The sight of you showing interest in the workings of his car, sharing a moment of camaraderie with another man, ignited a primal instinct within Oscar to defend what he considered his territory. The mechanic's presence, while innocent and professional, suddenly felt like a threat to Oscar's sense of security and connection with you.

Behind his calm exterior, Oscar's mind raced with thoughts of competition and rivalry. He felt an overwhelming urge to assert his dominance, to remind everyone in the paddock that you were his, and his alone. The idea of anyone else encroaching on your attention filled him with a fierce determination to reclaim your focus, to ensure that you remained firmly by his side.

In that moment, Oscar's love for you transformed into a fierce, primal instinct to protect and possess. He would do anything to keep you close, to ensure that no other man could come between you. Though his actions might seem extreme to an outsider, for Oscar, it was a matter of preserving what he held most dear: his connection with you.

Despite the storm of emotions raging within him, Oscar knew better than to confront the situation in public. He understood the importance of maintaining a composed facade amidst the public eye, unwilling to air his grievances or reveal his insecurities in front of others. Instead, he made a silent vow to address the issue with you privately, where he could express his feelings without fear of judgement or scrutiny.

As the day wore on and the activities in the paddock continued, Oscar bided his time, keeping his emotions carefully in check. With each passing hour, his resolve to discuss the matter with you grew stronger, fueled by a mixture of frustration, hurt, and a deep-seated desire to salvage what he perceived as a strained connection between them.

It wasn't until you both returned to the privacy of the hotel that Oscar felt the weight of the day's events press upon him once more. As Oscar and you entered the hushed confines of the hotel lobby, the tension between them crackled like electricity in the air. Oscar's jaw clenched, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of longing and apprehension. Finally, as the elevator doors closed behind them, sealing them in a cocoon of privacy, Oscar couldn't hold back any longer.

“We need to talk,” he said, his voice taut with emotion. Your eyebrows furrowed, sensing the gravity of his tone.

“What's on your mind?” you asked, trying to keep your voice steady despite the growing sense of unease.

“You know damn well what's on my mind,” Oscar snapped, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I saw you today, cozying up to Lando, Pato, and that mechanic. It felt like I was invisible to you, like you didn't even bother to look for me.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, but before you could respond, Oscar continued, his words tumbling out in a rush of pent-up emotion. “I can't stand seeing you with other guys, laughing and flirting like I'm not even here. I know I should trust you, but it's driving me insane.”

A flicker of hurt flashed across your face, mingling with empathy as you reached out to touch his arm gently.

“I was just being polite, Osc. I didn’t mean for it to seem like I was flirting with them. I didn't realise it was affecting you like this," you said softly, your voice laced with sincerity. Oscar's shoulders sagged with relief at your understanding, but the fire in his eyes didn't dim.

“I just... I need you to know how much you mean to me,” he admitted, his voice wavering slightly. “I can't stand the thought of losing you.”

“Maybe it’s a good thing I’m with you then, and not one of those stupid boys. Now I can just show you how much I love being yours,” You told him.

Tension hung in the air between them, but as you reached out to envelop him in a comforting embrace, Oscar felt a weight lift from his chest. A tentative smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you met his gaze, a silent reassurance passing between you.

“I'm here, with you, completely and utterly yours,” you continued, your voice filled with conviction.

In that moment, as the weight of the day's tensions melted away, Oscar felt a surge of gratitude for the unwavering love and devotion you offered him. With a renewed sense of purpose, he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close in a tender embrace.

Together, in the quiet sanctuary of the hotel room, you found solace in each other's arms, reaffirming the bond that held you together amidst the chaos of the racing world. And as you whispered words of love and reassurance into the night, Oscar knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as he had you by his side, he could weather any storm. And, perhaps learn to be less jealous at times.

#oscar piastri #f1 fanfic #f1 fic #f1 imagine #formula 1 #mclaren #mclaren f1 #f1 x reader #f1 #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x female reader #op81 imagine #op81 x reader #op81 #op81 fic #oscar pastry

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fanstuffrantings · 6 days

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So I know people hate Kipperlilly and that's valid, but the tragedy of her existing as she is especially after the most recent episode actually makes me feel so bad for her. I hope the rat grinders get redemption.

Kipperlilly has wanted to succeed for so long, she had irrational hatred for her peers because she wanted success and glory and was unremarkable in her life. She was jealous and trying and thought that her unremarkable existence could be overshadowed if she simply was the best. But everything she did to get success only further cemented her into being forgettable. She gets so angry over this and as someone who was an irrationally angry teenager I get it so much.

And she was aware of this. She regularly visited Jawbone and we can't pretend it wasn't because she was selfaware of her own shortcomings. She knew her anger was messed up and I just know she was trying to figure out some way to get rid of it. Because being that angry all the time is horrible. She was probably frustrated and just wanted to cope. And jawbone helped. He wasn't perfect but he helped and that's why this girl from freshman to sophomore year kept returning.

She was self aware enough for his subtle questions to help her calm down. And yet an adult in her life was made aware of her mental health problems and chose to exploit them. Things she confided to a trusted adult got turned back on her leading to her and her party becoming tools, or dying if they refused.

Now kipperlilly isn't faultless. She's killed people, she's antagonistic and cruel, but her being a victim and a teenager just trying to get help makes me so incredibly sad for what she's become.

#kipperlilly copperkettle #molten rambles #fantasy high junior year #fantasy high spoilers #dimension 20 #that much anger is so fucking tiring and frustrating #sometimes all you can do is just cry because you know it doesnt make sense and you dont want it but its there #the fact that she probably wouldve continued to not exist on the bad kids radar if she wasnt exploited kind of makes me crazy #if jace stardiamond is actually fully aware of what hes doing ill kill him myself tbh

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fluffymiyaa · 5 months

Text

Attention

Actor!Gojo x paparazzi!reader

Genre: romance, fluff

Summary: The spotlight is on him, but you are all he sees.

Masterlist

The red carpet buzzed with excitement, bathed in the glow of flashing lights. Gojo Satoru, the epitome of confidence, stood in his best suit and tie, His white hair radiated more than the camera flashes, and every move he made commanded attention. Amidst the sea of paparazzi, you struggled to find the perfect angle, determined to capture his charisma.

As Gojo strutted down the red carpet, his smile and poses effortlessly stealing the spotlight, you fought against the pushing crowd, annoyance evident on your face. "Stop pushing me!" you hoarsely exclaimed to the paparazzi behind you. The struggle intensified as everyone vied for the best shot of him.

In the midst of the chaos, you turned back to your camera, only to be startled by Gojo's face right in front of you, visible through the lens. Caught off guard, you stammered, "G-Gojo Satoru…!"

He grinned. "No need to worry, miss paparazzi. You can take as many pictures as you want," he said, winking and striking a pose.

Froze by his handsome face, you blinked and then swiftly captured the captivating moment.

Flash flash flash

The air crackles with the rapid succession of flashes, each moment echoing the pace of excitement. He glances your way, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips.

"Ahh~ it's not good."

In a second, he took your camera, effortlessly flipping it around to capture an unexpected frame of you and him. The swift exchange leaves you momentarily stunned, the surrounding fans and paparazzi caught in a chorus of shock and screams.

"Meet me at ten behind the building," he whispers into your ear, returning your camera with a wink. You're caught between a gasp at his audacity and a blush creeping across your cheeks, rolling your eyes at his playful antics. Yet beneath it all, your heartbeat seems to echo louder than the relentless rhythm of the camera flashes.

He strides into the building, a regal acknowledgment for everyone with waves and bows. Deciding to distance yourself from the crowds, you turn toward a quiet street near the building. Glancing at your phone, the clock displays eight o'clock — signaling a two-hour wait. You exhale in fatigue but press on.

Ding!

Toru<3: Hey sweetie, I've already parked my car behind this building. Someone will be waiting for you there. I've prepared some snacks and water in case you get hungry. I'll be right back as fast as I can, okay? I love youuu, see you soon, princess mwah (´ε｀ )♡

You: ok, i love you too toru

Toru<3: where's my kiss (>_<)

You: ( ˘ ³˘)♡

Toru<3: (//ω//)

You chuckle at his silly texts and follow his instructions. After a brief 5-minute walk, you find yourself in a quiet hallway. The cool air prompts you to tighten your grip on your jacket. A big figure stands there, awaiting your arrival.

"Ms. Y/n?"

You nod in acknowledgment.

He opens the door for you left. You then lock the car from inside. Waiting for him, you attempt to stay awake with the radio humming softly, but the exhaustion takes its toll, lulling you into a peaceful sleep.

---

Gojo impatiently taps his foot, yearning for the event to conclude. Glancing at his watch, it reads 9:30. His gaze sweeps across the array of actors, actresses, and influential figures present.

The burning desire to meet you intensifies, you have no idea how hard for him to holding back from kissng you infornt of eveyone earlier making him smile like a man possessed. In his mind, you become the sole focus, overshadowing everything else.

His daydream screeches to a halt as his friend calls his name.

"Satoru, to earth? You there?"

"Ah? What is it, Suguru?"

"My friend, Kana. She said she wants to talk to you. You know her, right? She's won a lot of awards as the best actress," Suguru says.

Gojo rolls his eyes, displaying an uninterested demeanor.

"No, I don't. I've got to meet my girl now. Tell the manager I've gone to the toilet or something."

Suguru chuckles at his best friend's response, recognizing the irresponsibility. It's a habit that threatens to make the manager go bald at this point.

Gojo discreetly slips out of the building, swiftly navigating the streets with one destination in mind: you. Upon reaching his parked car, he deftly retrieves the key and unlocks the door. As it swings open, he discovers you peacefully sleeping inside, prompting an uncontrollable smile to spread across his face.

Entering the car, he pull out his phone, intending to capture this tender moment. Drawn in by your serene expression, he can't resist showering your face with gentle kisses. The soft caresses of his lips rouse you from your slumber, and as your eyes flutter open, you find yourself greeted by his affectionate gaze.

"Satoru...?" you murmur, still caught in the embrace of sleep.

"Baby," he whispers, his voice a tender murmur.

"I'm sorry I made you wait for so long," he pouts, his apology accompanied by a playful yet apologetic expression. Your drowsy eyes meet his, and he can't help but marvel at your sleepy charm.

"No worries, Satoru," you say, a smile playing on your lips. "What's the plan now?"

His grin widens, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "How about we get out of here? Leave the chaos behind."

With shared excitement, you both decide to escape the glittering lights and bustling event. Gojo turns on the gas, the engine humming with anticipation. The city lights gradually fade as you drive towards a secret place.

You gaze out of the window, entranced by the dazzling city lights as Gojo effortlessly maneuvers through the streets.

"I can't believe you did that on the red carpet," you comment.

He laughs, a playful glint in his eyes.

"Yeah? I'm just helping you, miss paparazzi."

His hand casually finds its place on your thigh, a comforting touch that makes you sigh and smile, feeling the warmth of his presence.

"This would be my last. I'll be resigning soon." You said

He scoffs, eyes still fixed on the road.

"I've been saying that for six months now. You don't need to capture my pictures for entertainment anymore. Take my picture with your phone and keep it just for yourself instead."

You chuckle at his playful insistence. Taking pictures of him with your own phone still feels a bit weird, considering your roles are almost like opposites. Meanwhile, Gojo takes immense delight in capturing moments with you, creating a dedicated album that contains only pictures of you and him in his phone.

As you arrive at a secluded spot, away from the prying eyes of the world, Gojo prepared a surprises. A cozy blanket is spread on the ground, surrounded by flickering candles. Delicious foods await, creating a picnic under the stars.

"Welcome to our sanctuary," Gojo grins, gesturing to the makeshift haven he's prepared. He steps out and opens the car door for you, his hand gently touching yours. The night sky above, adorned with a breathtaking tapestry of stars, becomes the backdrop for your impromptu escape from reality.

You two sit on the blanket, the air gently caressing your hair. Gojo delicately tucks a loose strand behind your ear, his eyes filled with an abundance of love.

As his face draws closer, heartbeats synchronize, the cold air yielding to the warmth of your entwined bodies in this intimate moment. Closing your eyes, you feel the soft press of his lips against yours, a lingering kiss that lingers just enough before he pulls away.

"I know you're hungry. I prepared your favorite food!" he grins.

You both begin to eat, savoring each bite as you share conversation and laughter. After finishing the meal, you lay down, his arms enveloping you, your face nestled against his neck, sharing warmth and comfort.

"Your manager is going to be mad, you know," you mumble, your breath softly tickling his neck.

"Mhm? That's fine. I'm the one who made money anyway."

"You know people are starting to get suspicious that you're dating someone, especially when you always sneak out like this. They keep dropping you with questions, some even suspecting you dating your co-star," you pout.

He laughs it off, kissing your forehead. "You know that's not true, baby. I only have eyes for you."

You tighten your embrace, and in a soft mumble, you confess, "I really want to tell people that you're mine."

You sense Gojo's body momentarily tense at your words, but then he calms, gently stroking your hair.

"Yeah? So do I, princess," he murmurs, his reassurance adding a layer of comfort to the quiet night.

Under the night sky, with stars and the moon as silent witnesses to the love shared between you two.

Gojo turns his head towards you. "It looks beautiful."

Meeting his gaze, your eyes lock onto his bright blue eyes. "It is beautiful."

He seals the moment with another gentle kiss, pulling you even closer as if to capture the enchanting night within the warmth of your embrace.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," you reply, the words lingering like a sweet promise.

No paparazzi, no intrusive flashlights, just an intimate exchange of attention between the two of you, satisfying the craving for each other's company. And that's how you both spend the night, escaping from everything, finding sanctuary beneath a sky adorned with countless stars.

Hope you enjoy. Reblogs make me feel more appreciated<3

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lifeandlies-of-regulusblack · 6 days

Note

Please….Please save me from the regulus discourse I keep seeing…i saw 7 posts about it in succession…he doesn’t deserve this…I need…regulus headcanons…

JUICY HEADCANONS HERE WE GO.

tagging @rizzulusarcturizz @villain-crown @ilovefanfics @arcturusblackregulus and @queerregulusablack because i love them.

regulus smokes his first cigarette in his brother's room, taken from a pack sirius left behind. he keeps the pack even after he's smoked all of what's inside, because that's where he puts all his little notes for sirius.

—

sirius likes to tell regulus that he loved regulus before he was ever born, and little regulus would always laugh at that. he tells his big brother to stop being silly, and sirius plays at being offended. "i'm not being silly! it's true! i was waiting for you all along!"

—

pre-hogwarts regulus and sirius once fought over regulus fussing over kreacher. sirius was looking for regulus only to find him trying to convince kreacher to let him wrap his injured finger with his handkerchief.

Sirius calls regulus out in annoyance because he didn't want his brother touching the elf, he was uneasy around them and he didn't think it was regulus' role to care for beings meant to serve them (as they've heard their entire lives). but regulus wouldn't budge. he grips on to Kreacher's hand tighter while glaring at sirius. the shock at regulus' ire turns into petty rage and jealousy, as the poor elf keeps telling regulus that it was okay, mumbling out a dozen other protests about how master regulus didn't need to lower himself and— and— this makes sirius angrier. so much so that he ends up yelling at kreacher to shut up. which in turn makes regulus scream at sirius to go away.

and so sirius does, angrily, hurt, and feeling slightly betrayed. so unused to regulus... fighting him. "Stupid little brothers," he says to himself. "See if I ever play with him again!"

Sirius was still by himself, thinking of turning regulus away when his brother inevitably came to his room later at night, to sleep in his bed, when he hears his brother's wailing cries. this puts a primal fear into his being that far overshadows whatever childish anger he was clinging to. he runs down the stairs to see what's happened. and there, he sees his brother, clutching at his cheek and cowering from the tall figure of his mother looming over him, wand drawn.

regulus was caught with kreacher.

for once in his (relatively young) life, sirius is frozen. he doesn't know what to do. this isn't a broken vase he can say he broke. this wasn't something he could say regulus did for him. the act of nursing an injured elf was so clearly an action belonging to regulus. only regulus would do this.

he looks at their mother and sees the disgust and disappointment lining her features. regulus was her perfect boy.

and her perfect boy had wrapped his handkerchief, with the black family coat of arms embroidered right at the center, and used it to bandage an elf's bleeding finger. his mother is incandescent.

sirius is too slow, too short, to reach his brother as walburga reaches to shake his brother with a frightening vigor that has regulus crying out in alarm.

"Don't you ever do that again, you hear me?" his mother shouts over regulus' panicked cries. At sirius' shout of alarm, she lets regulus go with a harsh shove and makes her way to him.

"You should've taught him better! What use are you to the family if you can't look after your brother?" she yells at him. she prods at his chest, making sure her nails dig in painfully, "This is your fault, you foolish child." Sirius can't even muster the rage he so usually feels at his mother, yet again, finding ways to blame him. At least she's let regulus go.

When, after their mother has left, sirius gathers his little brother into his arms and shushes him, rubbing his back best as he can. they're both reeling. regulus at being punished for what he thought was right, unused to being the recipient of their mother's anger. and sirius for not being able to do anything, to help him — replaying the way his limbs froze, his mind unable to think of something quick to say or do.

he wants to punish kreacher for his brother's tears.

—

regulus is top of his class in potions. really, it's him and severus that become the talk of the school. prodigies. Slughorn's two favorite students and the topic of most his open bragging. a lot of students remark on them being fortunately in separate years, avoiding the cutthroat competition that would've been for the top spot. they don't necessarily like each other, but the respect is there.

regulus expected to receive the brunt of severus' anger regarding his brother. he tells him this as they end up in the same library aisle, discussing which potions book had better methodology. and the older scoffs.

"It's sad how you keep wanting to be like your brother."

and the statement stings. he idolizes his brother.

"Get over yourself, Black. It's a compliment. You're not your brother and you've already made a name for yourself."

oh...

"Never talk to me about this again. I don't hate you but we're not friends."

After finishing 6th year, Severus gives him his potions book.

"Here, see if you can do better than me. Use it and let me know how it turns out." he stops before he walks away, "Or not. I'll probably hear about it from the professors."

—

something something regulus asking to apprentice under madame pomfrey. regulus slowly gains her trust and respect. eventually, she lets him help with remus, after he comes to her telling her how he knows, and how remus knows that he knows.

"I mean... Moony? Really?" he asks incredulously. He shoves his wand harshly under Remus' throat, "Do you think I'm stupid?"

—

Regulus tells Sirius to leave. He'll follow but not in the near future.

"Come on, Sirius. I'll survive without you. But you won't with me." "That's not true! Together or not at all, remember? We promised. I promised." "What, you think I'm not brave enough? Too soft to ever completely leave the family behind? That I'll lose myself to them?" "No, I think you've always been brave. Too brave. You don't have to be brave for them and not this way. Can't you see Reggie? This way's fucked up. We can just leave!" "It's... It's not that bad Sirius. Or at least it never was for me. I can be strong for the both of us and I want to — just promise you won't go where I can't follow." "As if. What do you want me to tell moony, you little shit?" "That I love him." "This hurts you know? This entire conversation has been one big pain in the ass, and it's going to be for a long while. Man, fuck you. Honestly. I can't blame you, but this hurts, just so you know." "I know. I love you." "...I know."

#asks #regulus black #the black brothers #sirius black #marauders era #regulus headcanon #hp marauders #sirius and regulus #severus snape #remus lupin #moonwater #the marauders #marauders fandom #dead gay wizards #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #my writing

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