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peterman-spideyparker · 1 year

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Santa, Baby (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Sooooooooo this fic was supposed to come on December 23, but I procrastinated with it and didn’t end up finishing it until yesterday, and I don’t want to wait until next year to post because I’d put money on it that I’d forget. And it’s still December, so it counts. Enjoy :)

Summary: You want to do something on the sexier side to surprise Matt at Christmastime, but you don’t know how he’d take it. When Matt takes an unexpected night off from vigilantism, you put your plan into motion.

Warnings: Fluff (established couple, soft domestic sweetness, kisses), smut (holiday themed sexy outfits, oral - m and f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, creampie), swearing

Other Characters: Karen Page (Karen x Frank)

Word Count: 3,809

“Hey,” you say with a smile as you open the door, the office of Nelson, Murdock, and Page on the air of the quiet side of things for what you know has been a busy week for the trio.

“Angel, what are you doing here?” Matt smiles, taking a few steps forward from Karen’s desk to meet you in the middle of the reception area.

“I cut work early to run some errands and I was passing by, so I thought I’d pop up,” you hum, placing a quick, sweet kiss on his lips.

“Well, I don’t want to be a bummer, but I gotta go to court soon for a discovery hearing.”

“It’s okay, Matt. I actually came here to ask Karen a question.”

Surprised little “oh”s escape both of their lips, turning toward one another one shock.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it. See you at home, sweetheart.”

“Bye, Matty. You’ll do great,” you say with a kiss to his cheek, waiting as he grabs his jacket and makes it out of the office.

“So what’s up?” Karen asks with a smile as she sits on her desk, and you move to match her body language.

“Well, I had an idea, but I don’t know if I should see it through,” you explain. “See, I wanted to do something for Matt for Christmas, but I don’t know if he’d get his knickers in a twist. I mean, I already got his present—which has been hell to hide from Mr. Super Senses—but I want to do a little something more for him.”

“Like what?”

You feel your cheeks burn hot, suddenly a little embarrassed. You don’t know why you are—you’ve talked to Karen about this kind of stuff plenty of times before, and she has to you. You just have that kind of bond and friendship.

“Well, there was a really cute Santa babydoll dress that I was thinking of getting, but I don’t know if that’d be weird for Matt—making Christmas sexy like that.”

“He’s never hinted around anything in that sphere?”

“Nope.”

“Well, I guess I can understand where that might be an odd thing on different fronts. Making something that shouldn’t be sexy sexy, and then the religious element.”

“So it’s a bad idea then, huh?”

“Maybe that one specifically, but I’m sure there’s another. It’s fun to do sexy holiday things like that. Frank and I love doing them.”

“You do?” you smirk.

“That’s a story for another time with lots of wine,” she laughs. “But I’d look for other options, you know? If anything, Christmas and Valentine’s Day are perfect for something like that because of the softer fabrics, and I know Matt has a thing about that. Just poke around. I can even go shopping with you, if you want.”

“I’ll browse, and if I can’t find anything, we can look together. I’m assuming you’re trying to do something with Frank?”

She blushes deeply. “Yeah. But he doesn’t have a thing too much about Santa, so maybe send me the link for that babydoll?”

You laugh loudly in the quiet office. “Sure thing, Kare.”

As you dry the dishes from dinner, you feel Matt slip his arms around your middle, pressing you flush against his back and holding you close, his chin on your shoulder as he nuzzles into your neck.

“I think I’m gonna stay in tonight,” Matt whispers against your skin. “It’s chilly out.”

“The Devil is scared of a little wind chill?” you smile, trying and failing to turn around in Matt’s grip from behind.

“He likes it a little warmer.“

“Poor thing,” you pout, craning your head to the side, giving him a kiss on the side of the nose. “You’d never survive New England winters.”

“Good thing we live in the best city in the world.”

“You know what I think?”

“Lay it on me, sweetheart.”

“I think my big strong devil is a snuggly, needy, softy. In all the best ways.”

“Me? Needy?”

“We’re all a bit needy, Matty. You, for example, need me.”

“That’s the understatement of the century,” he smiles, letting you turn around in his grip, holding the side of his face and kissing him properly.

“Well, I need you, too, so we’re perfect for one another. And, you’re my human radiator. Blankets don’t stand a chance against my man.”

“Can I get that in writing?” he smiles, his hands on your waist spinning you around to he can give you a kiss.

“Sure thing, baby,” you mutter against his lips.

“Let me put these away.”

“Dish duty is on me tonight. Don’t mess with the system, Matty.”

“Can the system go out the window for one night?”

“My creature of habit wanting to throw routine out of the window?”

“C’mon, angel.”

You lean forward once more, your lips meeting softly once more as you moan into the kiss.

“Okay,” you whisper, running your hands down his arms, moving from between the kitchen counter and his body and onto the couch.

Grabbing your laptop off of the coffee table, you whip it open and weed through your emails, deleting the copious and redundant notifications from different stores regarding sales, special memberships, and the like. Shortly after, Matt makes his way from the kitchen to the seat next to you, returning your computer to where you initially picked it up before he slides you into his lap.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispers, placing a kiss on your neck.

“Hi Matty,” you hum, snuggling into him. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“What do you want to do? We can pop in a movie, play a game—.”

“You didn’t bring any work home?” you ask, surprised that’s night is completely free—including his Deviling duties.

“Not tonight. I wanted to focus just on you tonight.”

“Mm, that’s sweet.”

“What do you have in mind for tonight, angel?”

You let out a sigh as you rest your head on his shoulder, thinking about the different cozy home activities you could do together when a thought crosses your mind.

“I guess tonight is a good of night as ever,“ you hum.

“Angel?”

“I have an idea, but it’s a surprise.”

“You’ve managed to keep a surprise a secret?”

“Rude,” you chuckle, kissing his cheek as you move to turn and straddle his lap. “You stay right there, Mr. Murdock. And you swear to me on my boobs that you won’t use your senses to try and ruin my surprise.”

“You want me to swear on your boobs?”

“You know you love them. Swear on their softness that you won’t spoil the surprise.”

With a cheeky smirk, he spreads his large hands against your waist.

“I swear I won’t—,” he says into your right boob through your sweater with a kiss, mirroring the action on the other breast, “—ruin your surprise.”

“Thank you,” you hum, running your fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead before you get up, moving to the bedroom and closing the sliding door. Moving to your side of the bed, you pull out a box from underneath mattress, moving to slide on the satin bra and panty set you got from a local boutique. With the bra straps on properly, you tie the long satin tails that act as cups into a nice big bow, mimicking the motion for the ties that are on the hips of the matching panties. Whipping your head up and down to revitalize your hair from the day, you take a deep breath before you open the door, expecting to see Matt on the sofa.

“Matt?” you call as you move into the living space, looking around as you try to find where your boyfriend disappeared to into the apartment. “Matt, where ar—?”

“I need you to help me figure something out, sweetheart. Were you naughty or nice this year?”

Turning around in the dark apartment, your eyes finally focus at the top of the roof access staircase. In all his glory, Matt leans with a smirk against the old brick, bare chested with Santa pants of all things hanging low on his hips, the suspenders on the waist leaning haphazardly down, while a red fuzzy hat sits on his head.

“Your heart rate is telling me you might have made the naughty list this year, angel,” he says as his smirks grows, slowly descending the steps.

“N-No,” you stutter. “I’m just . . . Surprised by the outfit.”

“Why?”

The incoherent stutters that fall from your lips only make Matt laugh as he makes his way over to you, resting his hands on your waist and pulling you in for a kiss before resting his forehead on yours.

“Too much?” he whispers, his thumbs moving back and forth on your skin.

“No, not at all,” you tell him. “Like I said, I’m just surprised.”

“Why?” he tries again.

“I didn’t know how you’d be about sexy Santa. Actually, I didn’t know how you’d feel about making anything Christmas related sexy.”

“Well, it’s a little odd. The pants are really nice and soft, though. And, the way I look at it, we’re not making the root of Christmas sexy, just a commercial element sexy. Now, let Santa unwrap his gift,” he whispers, his voice at a dangerously rich and gravely timbre, his hands slipping down over the globes of your ass, squeezing the exposed flesh.

“Mm, but I thought patience helps you get on the nice list?” you hum as you begin to place slow kisses onto his chest, pulling him by his dangling suspenders to keep him close as you step back toward the bedroom. “Patience is a virtue, after all.”

“Virtue, suggestion,” he chuckles, moving his hands up to the side of your face to kiss you. “Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” you smile against his lips as he lies you down on the mattress, pillows at your head. “Open me up, Matty.”

“Mm, thank you, sweetheart,” he hums, his large hands gliding across the surface of your thighs and spreading you open, allowing him to get closer into your body. As his hands move up, his thumbs swipe against the satin of my bra. “It’s such a pretty bow. Hate to ruin it.”

“I can guarantee you, the things underneath it are prettier and softer.”

Matt lets out a soft “Ah”, his smile growing wide on his tender expression before he kisses you, pressing soft embraces down from your lips to your neck, and finally to your chest before his teeth take hold of the ribbon’s tail and gently tug it undone. You let out a little gasp, partially from the cool air of the loft, partially from the way the satin drags along the sensitive skin. Instead of using his hands like you expect, Matt nuzzles his nose against the fleshy mounds, placing little kisses all over the supple skin. You moan softly as he embraces your breasts, leaving no centimeter of the skin untouched, his lips desperately chasing the fatty flesh as it moves around. You gasp when you feel his large, calloused fingers graze the side of your breast as his mouth catches the other one between his lips, sucking at the nipple.

“So good, Matty,” you whine, the hot breath through his nose fanning over your chest as he opens his eyes and tilts his head up, working to lock eyes with yours. The Santa hat remains on his head, but only slightly. “Baby . . .”

Matt slowly pulls off of your nipple, moving to leave wet kisses all over the rest of your chest and up your neck.

“Can I unwrap the rest of my gift, angel?” he gravels, his beard scratching against your skin.

“Of course, Matty. But there’s something I’d like to do first?”

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you switch your positions on the mattress, letting the bra slide down your arms and off of your body. As you flick it to the side, you move down Matt’s body, grazing your fingertips along his pants, slowly moving to peel them off of his body. He lifts his hips up in an effort to help, letting you slide the velvety fabric off so it can join your bra on the floor. But before you can bend down and take hold of Matt’s rock-hard cock, he stops you.

“Hold on, angel,” Matt hushes. Your eyebrows pull together in confusion as he twists to the side and rummages through his bedside drawer. When he lays his back back down, you have to work not to laugh at the sight before your eyes.

“You are a stupendous dork,” you laugh, your smile so bright it lessens your view of him.

“What? It’s Christmas rules—kiss what’s under the mistletoe,” he smirks as he dangles a fake sprig of the weed over his semi-hard cock.

“Well, I can’t upset Christmas rules,” you chuckle, kissing his tip and all the way down to the base, repeating the motions all over his length. Somewhere in your process, the mistletoe doesn’t get held as high before it’s eventually on the ground with out other pieces of clothes.

“(Y/N),” he breathes.

“Yeah, Matty?” you murmur against his base by the patch of small, dark curls on his skin. “Can I suck you off, Matty? There’s no more mistletoe.”

“I need your lips around me, angel. Please.”

With a long lick, you bring your lips back up to the tip and slowly take him in your mouth, having to be conscious of his girth. Each bob of my head brings you down a bit farther on his length until you’re roughly an inch and a half shy of taking him all the way.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re so good,” he praises as he gathers up your hair, making sure you don’t swallow any of your locks as you go up and down. “So good for me, angel.”

The head of his cock his the soft flesh of the back of your throat, coating it with his salty precum, the movements only making you gag slightly. He helps you create opportunities to readjust as you go down on him, wanting to make sure you’re comfortable as you work. As you breathe through your nose, you bring your hands down to fondle Matt’s heavy sack, making sure he’s thoroughly taken care of. Between your hand and your mouth, you can feel every last ridge and vein that will bring Matt pleasure, and you briefly wonder if this is even a fraction of what Matt feels—being able to sense every last thing around him. Maybe you just know his body well enough. Whatever it may be, Matt guides you up and off of him by your hair, allowing a long line of saliva to connect from his dick to your chin. He pulls you into a a deep kiss, the embrace wet, needy, and sloppy with passion. As you straddle his waist while out tongues go back and forth, you can’t help but grind into his gorgeously defined muscles, spreading the slick pooling in your satin panties all over the fabric. Matt’s hands slide down to the globes of your ass, squeezing the flesh before giving both cheeks a firm smack, the sound echoing in the spacious bedroom as the sting spreads across your skin. You bite down on his lip as you kiss as response, which only makes Matt moan into your mouth, repeating the movement with his hands once more before he leans forward, your back returning to the mattress while his hands slide around to spread your legs wide.

“Do you want me to eat with your panties on, angel?” he teases as he kisses and marks up your inner thighs. “Would you like that, angel? Or do you want my mouth on your pussy and my fingers in you?”

“It wouldn’t be much of a present if you didn’t unwrap the rest of it,” you hum, biting your bottom lip as you watch him worship your inner thighs.

Dragging his fingertips up the sides of your legs, he finds the bows and pulls them undone, his hands sliding your hips up so you’re slightly off of the mattress. He grasps your panties with his teeth and slides it away from your body, only briefly removing his hands from your legs to take the fabric and throw it aside. His large, calloused digits are quick to move back between your legs, two of his fingers grazing and expertly parting your soaked lips. Matt brings his mouth close to your core, enough for you to practically feel his lips on you, only for him to hover just far enough away from you. He lets out a shallow breath from his mouth, pulling a sound that is part wanton moan, part erotic pornography sounds from you, as he coats your heat with his. When he is satisfied with his work, his lips wrap right around your swollen clit, gently sucking as his tongue slips in every now and then while he works.

“Fuck,” you choke out as he devours you, his beard tickling and scratching at your thighs. “Matthew!”

He just hums into you, sliding two fingers into your core while his other hand wraps around your hips to keep you down as your body begins to writhe and buck uncontrollably. He moans into your dripping cunt, which only makes you cry out into the room louder. Matt moves his tongue and mouth faster while his fingers tickle and scratch your inner spongy walls as his mouth rips a violent orgasm from you. You scream out at the top of your lungs as your body arches off the mattress, an entire sheen of sweat spreading over your skin as Matt relentlessly drags out your orgasm until the contracting muscles of your uterus physically hurt.

“Matty, Matty, oh God, Matt,” you groan, sounding like a woman possessed as he pulls his fingers out of you and releases your clit from his mouth, a line of slick connecting your core to his lips before licking his fingers clean and giving the swollen bundle of nerves a few gentle kisses. Matt places a few kisses on your inner thighs before going straight up your body and to your lips, holding your face in his hands as you kiss one another deeply and passionately.

“More, Matty,” you moan into his lips, pulling at his bottom lip between your teeth. “This gift isn’t over til you cum, baby.”

Matt laughs so warm and happily, it’s like the sun is in the bedroom.

“Whatever you say, angel. You are the gift giver, after all,” he affirms, his lips puckering all along your collarbone.

“Tell me how you want it, Matt. What position do you want, Matty?”

Matt licks a long line up your neck to the shell of your ear, his Santa hat no longer perched atop his head.

“I want you under me, on your back, your legs as far up as they can go, while I fuck you over and over,” Matt whispers in your hear, his voice deep and seductive in its commanding tone. “Can you do that for me, angel?”

“Yes, Matthew,” you breathe.

“Good girl,” he tells me with a harsh squeeze on my hips, his hands sliding back around your legs and bringing them as high up and as close to your chest as your body will allow. Matt slaps his cock repeatedly on your slick, swollen lips before he holds his dick steady as he pushes in, the angle of your legs making everything tighter and making you feel everything on a new level, making the feeling so extraordinary and increasing the pleasure. Bent in half like this, Matt easily hits your back wall and has no problem pounding into you over and over once he gets the angle just right. His strong arms help hold your legs in place, his hands cradling your neck, thumb on your cheeks as he brings his mouth to yours, kissing you deeply and repeatedly as he hits the special spongey spot in you again and again. Your hands grip his muscly arms, pressing little red and angry half-moon shapes of your fingernails into his fair and hairy skin.

“So fucking good, angel,” he grunts into your mouth. “Fuck, s’tight and wet.”

“God, you’re so big!” you whine.

“God isn’t here, angel. Just me, my cock, and your tight cunt.”

“Ma—aahhh! Just like that, Matty, right there!”

The way that Matt’s pelvis slams into the back of your thighs is insane, hitting every right spot over and over again as you start to see stars.

“Sounds like you’re close again, angel,” he grunts. “Are you gonna cum for me again?”

“Mmm!” you whine.

“Words, babygirl.”

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” you cry out.

“Squeeze my cock, angel. Cum for me.”

With one more hard thrust in just the right spot, you have another earth-shattering orgasm at the hands of your boyfriend. His grunts and the way his hips begin to falter tell you that he’s not going to last much longer if he keeps snapping his hips like that.

“S-Stay inside me,” you beg, holding onto his shoulders. “Fu—Cum inside me.”

Matt’s face contorts, his mouth hanging open and his brows furrowing in pleasure as he moans loudly, hitting deep and releasing his large load. You lie on the bed panting, impossibly close to one another as you both come back down to earth from your cosmic highs.

“Holy shit,” you breathe before you tilt your chin up and press a kiss to his pink, swollen lips.

“I know,” he chuckles with a little grin.

With a few more kisses, he leans back and pulls out to unfold you. As he does, you can feel his cum dribble out of your hole.

“Fuck, that smells nice, you and me together like that” Matt breathes as his thumbs rubs back and forth on your legs. “You’re so beautiful, angel.”

“You’re not bad yourself, there, Murdock.” Taking his hand in yours, you pull him back down on the mattress with you. “Did you like your gift?”

“I loved it,” he smiles, rolling into you for a kiss.

“I mean, I still have an actual gift for you, not just amazing sex.”

“Aw, you shouldn’t have,” he teases. “I love you.”

“I love you more. But I do have a question, though.”

“Mm?”

“Do you think we just got ourselves put on the naughty list for all of that?”

The room is silent before you both burst out in laughter and snuggle into one another.

“I think an exception can be made for us—we were doing something nice for one another.”

“A lawyer through and through, you are.”

“Merry Christmas, (Y/N).”

“Merry Christmas, Matt.”

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hisui-dreamer · 1 year

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through the endless daydream (part 2)

Pairing: Lilia Vanrouge x gn!reader

Synopsis: There is a rumour that there is a hidden advisor of the Draconia family, who has guided the ruler of all fae for years. They say he is the one responsible for the peace established between humans and fae. What they don’t know, is that he has been doing so for millennia, cursed by the gods to be immortal as punishment for his crime of killing a human who was beloved by the gods—his very own lover, for whom he must forever repent until he can be killed by his true love.

Tags: angst, character death, brief suicidal thoughts, loss, historical, war, bot proofread

Word count: 4.4k+

Notes: I am honestly in disbelief of how long this fic is getting, but hopefully my motivation doesnt fade and I can finish it. By the looks of it, it'll be one chapter? ehehe

Part 1 ✧Part 2 (you're here)✧Part 3✧Part 4 (coming soon!)

Lilia had hoped the two of them would stay at the orphanage together and live their lives caring for the children while secretly caring for each other as lovers. It was the beginning of a new chapter in their relationship, one filled with love, trust, and a newfound sense of joy. But fate had other plans in store for him, which was made clear to him in the moment.

"Lilia, my dear general,” the Fae King greeted Lilia with a warm smile, but it quickly faded as he got straight to the point. “I'm afraid I have some grave news to share with you," he said.

The throne room was decorated in a gothic style, with black stone walls and ornate carvings that seemed to watch him as he walked. The room was filled with a solemn atmosphere, the only light came from the flickering candles with green flames scattered throughout the room. At the end of the room, on a raised dais, lay the Fae King's throne, carved from obsidian and adorned with sharp spikes and intricate, twisted patterns. Lilia had been in the room many times before, he remembered the times when he discussed war strategies with the Fae King, the times when he gave his all for his people, and the times when he made choices he wasn't proud of. This meeting would be different than any other he has had before, and the ominous atmosphere of the throne room only added to his apprehension.

Lilia had been washing bedsheets by the river when the guards of the Fae King approached him. His expression unreadable, he asked, "What brings you here?", trying to sound casual, but his voice was tense.

The guards relayed that the King summoned him to his court. Lilia could only accept, knowing that a summon from the Fae King was not to be taken lightly. After quickly casting a spell to teleport the laundry back to the orphanage, he closed his eyes and concentrated, the air around him shimmered and distorted. The trees and riverbank of the human world faded away, replaced by the familiar sights of his homeland. The sound of rushing water was replaced by the quiet hum of magical energy, and the air smelled of burning candles and fresh roses. He was in front of the King's castle when he opened his eyes once more.

Lilia knelt before the Fae King, his eyes fixed on the ground as he spoke. "What is this news you speak of, your majesty?" He sensed that the King's sudden seriousness might indicate that something was amiss.

The King replied in a low, menacing voice, "General Vanrouge, I have decided that we will wage war on the humans once again."

Lilia froze in shock as he heard the words. He had hoped that the days of war were behind them, that they could all live in peace now, and that he could continue enjoying his peaceful life with his beloved. He knew he couldn't bring himself to do it again, to face the devastating consequences of taking countless lives once again.

"Your Majesty, another war? Why must we continue this cycle of violence? Is there not a better way to coexist with the humans? We have already lost so much in the last war. Can we not find a peaceful solution?" Lilia pleaded.

"Peace? With those filthy humans? They will never stop until they have wiped us off the face of the earth. We must strike first, and strike hard," the King scorned in disgust.

"But your Majesty-"

"Silence, general," the King's face contorted in rage, his brows furrowing. His entire body tensed as he pounded his fist on the armrest of his throne, staring daggers into Lilia. You dare defy me? You forget your place as my general and my subject!", he hissed, resonating around the room with all the authority of a king.

Lilia kept his head low and continued to kneel. Knowing the King's temper well, he knew it would not be wise to provoke him further, but he knew he had to make a choice. Either he would obey the King's orders and risk losing everything he had grown to cherish, or he would defy him and face the consequences.

"Your Majesty," he replied steadily. "I cannot in good conscience wage another war on the humans. We have already caused them enough suffering. I will not take part in this war,"

The King's expression darkened. "Do not question my decisions, Lilia. You are a loyal subject of the Fae Kingdom and you will do as I command."

Lilia stood his ground, even in the face of the King's increasing wrath. "I am not just your subject, your majesty. I am a living being with my own conscience and beliefs."

The King’s eyes narrowed to slits as he glared ferociously, "What changed? What has caused this shift in your loyalty?"

Lilia hesitated for a moment before answering, "I have seen the good in humans, your Majesty. They are not all evil, and they do not deserve to suffer because of past grievances."

The King scoffed, "Is it the human you've gotten close to who has led you astray?"

Lilia was taken aback by his words, instinctively looking up, realising that the King had been keeping an eye on him in his travels. Quickly straightening his posture, he met the King's gaze head-on. "No, your Majesty. The human has only shown me kindness and compassion. They have nothing to do with my beliefs."

The King stood, his height towering over the general, step by step walking closer to him. "You have become soft, my general," he said with disdain. "You are a hypocrite. You have always despised humans, you were at the battlefronts annihilating the human forces, yet now you protect one of them. Have you no shame?"

Lilia looked directly into the King’s eyes as a shiver went through his body. "I have come to learn that my past actions were mistaken," he replied. "I no longer wish to continue down the path of destruction I once walked on."

The Fae King sneered. "Mistaken...", he spat. "Humans are nothing but weaklings. They are not fit to be with our kind. You have betrayed your people, Vanrouge. You have betrayed your King."

Lilia could tell from the force his boots hit the ground that he was furious as he continued walking closer, his eyes cold and calculating. "If you do not wage war on the humans, then there is only one other option," he said. "You must eliminate the source of your weakness. Kill the human."

Lilia's body shook with horror at the King's words. He felt sweat gather on his palms, his breath quickening. After a few moments of silence, he spoke up, his voice trembling with emotion.

"Please, my King," Lilia said, desperation creeping into his voice. "I cannot do what you ask of me. I cannot harm them."

The King's eyes narrowed, "You will do as I say, or you will suffer the consequences. You are my general, and you will not show weakness. If you fail to end their life, then rest assured my dear general, I shall finish the job myself. Your disgraceful actions shan't taint our reputation as Fae."

Lilia felt a tear escape his eye as he realised the gravity of his situation. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts; he wanted to stand up to the King, to tell him that he wouldn't kill the human, that he wouldn't wage another war on the humans. But he knew deep down that he was too weak, that he didn't have the strength or the power to take on the King and his army as he was.

"I understand, my King," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Lilia felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he rose from his kneeling position and turned to leave the throne room, knowing that he had just sealed his own fate.

He had no choice but to obey. And he only had himself to blame.

The moon was full, casting an eerie glow on the buildings around Lilia as he trudged towards the orphanage, feeling the weight of his mission heavy on his shoulders. Pushing the door open, he quietly crept inside, making his way through the dark corridors, the only sound being the soft patter of his feet.

Finally, he arrived at the room of his beloved. Lilia took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock, his sword held tightly in his other hand. But when stood there, the reality of his task hit him like an immense wave, making his resolve waver as his mind raced with conflicting thoughts.

"I can't do this," he whispered to himself. "I can't... take their life."

Just as he was about to lower his hand and turn away, the door creaked open, and his beloved appeared, confusion etched onto their face. The moment they caught sight of his sword, fear flickered in their eyes.

"Lilia, what are you doing?" they asked, stepping back.

Tears welled up in Lilia's eyes, blurring his vision. His sword shook as he tried to steady himself. "I... I have to do this," he stammered.

His beloved's expression turned to one of horror and disbelief. "You can't be serious," they gasp. But as they look at Lilia, they see the turmoil in his eyes and the way his hand shakes. "Please, tell me what's going on."

Lilia closed his eyes in an attempt to blink away the tears. He tried to push the sword towards them, but his hand refused to move. "I can't do it, my love," he cried out. "I love you too much to hurt you."

As Lilia looked into their eyes, he knew he could no longer hide the truth from them. "Beastie," he whispered, "I have to leave. The Fae King wants you dead, and I've been ordered to kill you. I can't disobey him."

The human was stunned, their body trembling in shock. "You... you have to kill me?" they echoed, their voice unsteady as tear began to flow freely from their eyes.

Lilia nods, his tears of sorrow continued trickling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, Beastie," he sobbed, taking their hand into his. "I never meant to hurt you. Please forgive me, it's all my fault."

As Lilia stepped closer, trying to see their expression through his blurry eyesight, he was surprised to see acceptance in their eyes. "Lilia, it's okay," they said softly. "I understand."

Lilia stopped in his tracks, his grip on the sword tightening. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. This was the person he loved, and they were accepting their fate. "I can't do it, Beastie," he said, his voice breaking. "I love you too much to hurt you."

Their gentle smile, filled with care and affection as it always had only made Lilia's heart ache even more. "I know, Lilia," they said, their eyes filling with tears, their lashes wet and clumped together as the tears overflowed onto their cheeks. "I know... I love you too."

They stepped closer to him and wrapped their arms around his trembling form, forcefully leaning in and mashing their lips onto his. Lilia could only stand there frozen, eyes widened in surprise at their sudden actions. He felt as a warmth seeped onto his hands, and it is only then he realises what they have done.

He pulls back immediately, looking down at his hands coated in red, the scent of iron thick in the air. The sword is lodged deep into his beloved's chest.

"No, no, no," Lilia cried, his mind racing. "What... what have you done...? What have I done?"

All too soon, their strength began to leave their body, causing them to stumble forward. Lilia rushes to hold them in his arms, cradling them tenderly as he feels their life slipping away. Despite years of fighting on the battlefield, unwavering in the face of death, he now felt overwhelmed, the prickly sensation in his heart more intense than ever before.

"I did it for you," they whispered weakly, their breaths becoming shallower by the second. "I couldn't bear the thought of you having to choose between your duty and your love. This way, you don't have to."

Lilia's heart shattered as he heard their words. They had sacrificed themselves for him, and now he was left to face the repercussions alone.

"Why did you have to love me?" Lilia whispered, droplets of tears falling onto their face. "If only- If only I hadn’t gotten close to you..."

As Lilia turned towards them, he was met with a gaze filled with love and forgiveness. Their hand reached up and tenderly cupped his cheek, his tears leaving a moist trail on his skin as they wiped them away with the palm of their hand. "It's okay, Lilia," they whisper. "I forgive you."

Their words of comfort fail to bring him relief however, knowing that his actions have caused irreparable harm. If only he could turn back time, undo everything that led to this moment. Perhaps if he had not met them that fateful day, not stayed with them, not fallen in love with them, they would be living a peaceful life, never to be endangered by him. But it is too late for his regrets now.

"Lilia?" they murmured.

"Yes, Beastie?" he whispered, choked with emotion.

"I love you," they said softly, their arm lost its strength and began to fall to their side, but Lilia cupped his hand over theirs, holding it in place. "Will you… sing for me?" they whispered, eyes fluttering closed.

Lilia lifts his tear-streaked face to meet their gaze and nods solemnly, taking a deep breath. He holds them close and sings a lullaby, a melody that brings peace and comfort to even the most restless soul. The very song that he used to sing for them in the forest under the moonlight.

“Through the endless daydream,

I saw you on the way back.

There I walked with you in my arms.

Through the blurry darkness,

who's veiling on the twilight,

we've been far away from my fears...

Hush, now my angel,

I will always be with you.

In your pretty smile,

in a glow of tears,

out across the frosty night,

I'll be there with you...”

His voice is soft and choked with emotion, his heart breaking with each passing moment. But he continues to sing, pouring his love and sorrow into each note as the song echoes through the room, soothing and peaceful. It's as if time had stopped, and nothing else mattered in that moment.

As the song came to an end, his beloved took their final breath and passed away peacefully with a gentle smile, content in the arms of their lover. Lilia embraced them tightly, tears cascading down his face like rain, grieving the loss of his beloved. His hands trembled as he struggled to accept the reality of what had just happened. Despite his promise to protect them, he had taken their life. He had killed the person he loved most in the world, the one who had accepted his fate with open arms. He had failed them, failed himself, and failed everyone he had ever cared for. Lilia's heart felt as though it was being ripped from his chest as he let out a heart-wrenching cry filled with agony. He had never felt so alone in all his centuries of existence.

He had distinguished the only light in his life.

Nothing else mattered anymore.

For what reason could he live on, in a world of darkness without his dearest star?

In that moment, he made a decision. He couldn't live with himself anymore. He didn't want to live in a world without his dearest human. Eyes devoid of light, the same full red that stained his fingers, he pulled out the same sword that had taken his beloved's life and pointed it to his heart, ready to take his.

Suddenly, a gust of wind shook the entire room, and a bolt of lightning struck a nearby tree, splitting it in half with a deafening crack. A loud roar of thunder followed, halting Lilia in his actions. And then, he heard a voice—not from the Fae King, nor from his human, but from someone far more powerful.

The voice resounded throughout the sky, "You have taken the life of our beloved child. You have been bestowed the punishment of immortality. You will live forever, unable to die until you have atoned for your sin. You will wander the earth alone for centuries, seeking redemption for your actions. You will only be released from your curse when your true love ends you," it declared. With another roar of thunder, the gods disappeared, leaving Lilia alone.

Lilia felt a rush of power surge through his body. He closed his eyes, feeling the energy course through his veins, and he knew that he was no longer a mere mortal. His senses sharpened, and he could feel the world around him in a way that he never had before. The colours seemed brighter, the scents more potent, and the sounds clearer. At first, the sensation was overwhelming, and he clutched his head hoping for it to stop. But then, as he steadied himself, a sense of clarity washed over him. He would never be able to join his dearest in the afterlife, forever haunted by the memory of their death. He wondered how he would survive without them, how he would endure the weight of his guilt and the emptiness that now filled his heart. He wished with all of his being that he could turn back time and undo everything, but it could never be possible.

Lilia carried their lifeless body to the field where they first met, and with trembling hands, he dug a grave for them. As he placed them gently inside, he covered them with earth and flowers, whispering promises to them all the while.

"My love, I'm so sorry. I failed to protect you," Lilia said, his voice shaking with emotion. "But I promise to make it right. I'll honour your memory and ensure that your kindness lives on. Beastie, I'll love you for all eternity."

Lilia then made a vow to make amends for his past mistakes and to honour their memory by living a life of compassion and kindness towards humans. "I'll spend the rest of my immortal life working to make the world a better place and to make up for the pain I've caused, a place where innocent souls like yours wouldn’t be caught in war," he declared to the empty field.

And the first step he must take, is to stop the incoming war.

Once again, Lilia stepped foot into the King’s palace. This time, he had nothing to lose, nothing to fear. Lilia's heart was heavy as he approached the Fae King's palace, but he knew that he had to do what was right. He was determined to make things right, no matter the cost. He had to challenge the King and put an end to the cycle of suffering that had plagued their world for centuries.

At last, he arrived at the throne room, where the Fae King sat on his throne, surrounded by his courtiers. Lilia kneeled as was customary, his head nearly touching the ground, but his presence exuded power.

"Fae King," Lilia said, his voice steady and clear. "I implore you to cease your plans for another war."

"You dare challenge me, Vanrouge?" the King asked, his voice heavy with disdain. "It seems you have learned nothing from your lesson."

"I have learned that I cannot sit by and watch as you continue to put innocent lives at risk," Lilia replied, his voice steady despite the fear that threatened to overtake him. "I will not stand by while you inflict misery upon the humans," Lilia answered, unwavering as he rose to his feet. "For too long, we have lived in a world of violence and pain, of hatred and fear. It is time to put an end to it. I challenge you to a duel, Fae King. If I win, you will obey my orders as an advisor to the royal family. If I lose, I will serve as your general in this war as I had previously"

The King laughed, a cold, cruel sound that sent shivers down Lilia's spine. " A mere traitor and oath breaker challenging me? You are a fool, Vanrouge," he mocked. "But if you wish to die, then I will be happy to oblige."

With a wave of his hand, the King summoned his weapon, a sword of black iron that glinted with malevolent energy. The courtiers rushed to get away from the battle that would surely threaten their lives. Lilia drew his own sword, the same one that had been cursed with his immortality, and prepared himself for the fight of his life.

The two began to circle each other, their swords clanging against one another as they clashed. The battle was fierce and brutal, with both combatants fighting with all their might. Lilia was faster and more agile than the King, but the King's dark magic was a powerful force to be reckoned with. The clash of swords echoed through the throne room, and the air crackled with energy as the two opponents battled on, but the fate of the duel had been decided from the beginning. With his immortality, Lilia could continue to fight forever. Indeed, he would feel the excruciating pain of his injuries, but they could not end him. For hours they battled, until the fatigue finally weighed down the King, and Lilia saw his chance. The King had lowered his guard for just a moment, and Lilia seized the opportunity, his sword poised at the Fae King's throat. The King was defeated, and he knew he had no choice but to obey Lilia.

"Please, spare me," the King begged, panting for air. "I will do anything you ask."

"You have lost, Your Majesty," Lilia said, extending a hand to help the fallen King to his feet. In complete contrast, Lilia seemed completely unaffected by the long duel. "It's not too late to make things right. You can use your power for good, for the betterment of our people."

The King groaned. "Yes, yes, I will. Just spare me, please."

Lilia sheathed his sword. "The war ends today. And if you or any of your followers break your promise, I will be back to finish what I started."

The Fae King nodded, acknowledging his defeat, and Lilia walked away with a sense of victory, knowing that he had achieved what he had set out to do. From that day on, Lilia served as the royal family’s most trusted advisor. He would attend council meetings, offer wise counsel and guidance to the rulers, and utilise his expertise and knowledge to steer them in the right direction.

For centuries, Lilia dedicated himself to rebuilding the relationship between humans and the Fae. He worked towards negotiating peace treaties and fostering mutual understanding and collaboration between the two groups. As time went by, Lilia's efforts bore fruit. Humans and Fae started to interact more and more, and the tensions began to ease. Lilia watched with satisfaction as the world he had known for so long began to transform for the better.

Over time, Lilia became a trusted advisor to many rulers, and he played a key role in shaping the destinies of countless Kingdoms and empires. He used his knowledge and experience to prevent wars and conflicts, and he worked tirelessly to promote peace and unity among the people.

As Lilia walked through the bustling streets of the human city, he couldn't help but feel a sense of nostalgia wash over him. The world had changed so much since 5000 years ago. Humans and fae now lived together in harmony, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride and satisfaction. It was a far cry from the war-torn world he had known long ago. Humans and fae were no longer at each other's throats, but instead living side by side in peace and harmony.

He marvelled at the sight of humans casually using magic to go about their daily lives, the fae mingling freely with them. The once-gothic buildings of the fae had melded with human architecture to create a unique, vibrant landscape.

Yet, as he looked around, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of loneliness. Despite all the progress made, he was still an outsider, a being that had long outlived his kind. He had seen so many faces and places come and go, while he remained a constant presence.

It was then that he heard a delicate voice singing, a voice that he believed he would never be able to hear ever again. He turned around, scanning the crowded street, but couldn't see them anywhere. He wondered if he was imagining things or if it was just someone who sounded like them.

But then, he heard it again, and this time he recognized the tune.

"But if I know you, I know what you'll do

You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream..."

It was the song they used to sing to the children at the orphanage. His heart raced with excitement and anticipation as he followed the sound. Upon arriving at the source of the singing, Lilia discovered a small park where people were enjoying the sunny day. In the centre of the park, he saw you sitting on a bench surrounded by children who listened to your singing with rapt attention. Lilia's heart swelled with emotion as he watched you. Your appearance had changed, but your eyes were just as beautiful as ever, and your singing was as angelic as he remembered. He longed to run to you and embrace you, but he hesitated, not wanting to disrupt the moment.

Instead, Lilia stood back and watched you from a distance, basking in the joy of hearing your voice once again. He knew he could not approach you, lest he ruin your new life as he had done before. As the song came to an end, Lilia took one last look at you and the children and turned to walk away. Suddenly, a hand reached out and grasped his wrist, and Lilia halted in his steps.

"Wait! Sir!" you said, looking at him with a perplexed expression. "I've seen you before. In my dreams! Have we met before?"

Part 1✧Part 3✧Part 4 (coming soon!)

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twst imagines #twst wonderland #lilia vanrouge x reader #lilia vanrouge #twst lilia #lilia vanrouge x mc #twst lilia x reader

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trsrina · 2 years

Text

HEADSHOT - &TEAM JO

jo was only trying to teach you how to play basketball but he somehow hit you in the head with it instead

written in second person pov, fluff, established relationship, gender neutral reader but reader is implied to be shorter than jo? word count : 0.66k warning!! mentions of an injury? like yeah a whole ass basketball hitting you in the head.

it was a very spontaneous idea of you to drag take jo to your nearest basketball court at 11pm and have him teach you how to play basketball.

“okay, now you try,” jo separated from you and stood aside.

“what? are you sure? i can’t do it that fast i mean,” jo cut you off with a peck on your lips, “i’m confident in my own teaching and that my pupil can succeed, if you don’t, blame it on the hoop.”

“okay, i can do this,” you huff, getting into position, shooting the basketball into the hoop, you closed your eyes scared of the outcome.

“you did it!” the moment you heard cheering, you opened up your eyes to meet eyes with a happy jo, running towards you to pick you up and spin you around like you just won the nba.

“couldn’t have done it without you,” you smile at your adorable boyfriend, grabbing his cheeks and staring at his gleaming smile that single-handedly lighted up your whole world.

jo let go of you and picked up the basketball and suddenly tried to pass it to you, “catch!”

you were caught off-guard and before you knew it, the basketball was flying towards you, hitting you in the head, bonk.

“y/n!!! oh my god, i’m so sorry,” your vision went black for a second and your life flashed in front of your eyes, you collapsed onto the ground dramatically and landed on your butt, only being able to hear your boyfriend’s voice.

jo ran towards you and knelt down, worriedly holding your head, rubbing it to try to ease the pain with continuous kisses on your head.

“i’m so sorry, y/n, are you alright? should i call an ambulance?” he frantically asked with tears brimming his eyes, acting as if he just killed you with the murder weapon of a basketball.

“hey, don’t need to worry that much, i’m fine. it’s just a bit painful. let’s go home, it’s getting late,” you lied through your teeth so jo wouldn't worry while wiping away the tears that fell from his eyes, trying your best to ignore the aching you felt on your head.

"i'm so sorry, i should've been more careful. this is all my fault. i will not let you near a basketball ever again," jo pouted, his cuteness distracting you from the tremendous pain you were feeling.

"none of us wanted that to happen. it's not your fault, stop blaming yourself or i'm gonna start crying too," you nagged at him like a parent reprimanding their child, pointing a finger at him and joked around so he would stop crying and blaming himself.

you steadily tried to stand up by yourself only for black dots to blind your vision once again, falling back on your butt for the second time tonight.

"come on, you can barely stand up by yourself," jo slightly giggled then proceeded to turn his back against you, pulling your arms to wrap them around his shoulders, you were confused at his actions at first but soon realised he wanted to piggy-back you.

"are you sure this is necessary?" you chuckled, moving your head to face him, your lips almost touching his cheeks.

"yes, very necessary," he moved his face closer to yours, smoothly making you kiss him on the cheeks.

"okay then, let's go!" with your arms around jo, you excitedly pointed to some random direction and jo somehow managed to run with you on his back.

although the way back home from the basketball court was short but the couple still decided to sprint like the main characters of some romantic coming of age movie.

young love, isn’t it?

hdhshdhwhd sh AHHH WHAT IS THIS IDK i just really wanted to write for &team so i just made this fjsjfjsjdhw

feel free to interact, i’d really appreciate it if you liked or reblogged. <33 (tumblr’s algorithm is shit)

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azlrse · 2 years

Note

EXTREMELY WHOLESOME HEADCANONS FOR YOUR FAVORITE CHARACTERS YOU WRITE-

➳ the fan language—twst wonderland version (various twst wonderland x GN!human!reader)

cw: none, just some fluff and some of them are in a established relationship

a/n: weww, heartbreak is such a wild ride to experience :'))

You are the type of student who would always carry a handfan. Not because you think that the weather is kinda hot for you but you just want some of your non-verbal gestures to be seen especially when you have a crush on somebody. Someone whom you considered as a friend, an ally or if you want, your future boyfriend.

There is a saying that in the old times, when a lady fans herself fast while looking in the eyes of a man, it shows that you liked him and had feelings for that person. Being the person that doesn't like your feelings to be quite oblivious to him, you kept on doing this to confess your feelings to him.

So who's the lucky man you showed this affectionate gesture??

Idia Shroud 💀

Poor baby, was confused and was weirded out by you a bit as soon as you do this gesture.

Man's secretly a simp for you and looking you straight to the eyes while you fan yourself in a fast way makes him quite nervous at first.

Would search online about this kind of gesture you've been projecting to him and imagine the look of his face when your gesture shows that the feeling was mutual.

To show his appreciation, he nervously asked you out (which took him so many "business" days due to his crippling anxiety) and you replied with placing the closed fan on your right cheek.

Once again, man's confused about this gesture (he thought that you are asking for a kiss) until Ortho pointed out that you accepted his invitation for a date.

Idia was very happy on the inside and is a bit nervous as he starts his first relationship with you, he mighhtt start studying fan language so that he can understand you.

Would buy some very beautiful handfans just for his sweetheart.

1000000/10 would date this man, I love him so much.

Floyd Leech 👞

Unlike Idia, Floyd was familiar with this kind of gesture even if he originally is a merman.

Man's knows the concept of courting rituals and has seen his people exchange goods and trinkets that they found at the bottom of the sea.

But being part merfolk, he doesn't understand this kind of action you've given him. He tried asking some of his peers (Azul and his twin) but to no avail.

Poor baby was so confused and couldn't stop thinking about you and this random gesture you've shown him since last week.

Until one of his dorm mates (bless his heart) that the gesture you've projected shows that you have feelings for this confused fella.

This man doesn't hesitate to break into your dorm room and gives his adorable shrimpy the biggest hug, knowing that you'd return his feelings.

He also performs the courting ritual to you by giving you random objects he found (from a shoe to the most beautiful pearl you've seen) and he loves on how confused you've also become but knew that this was some kind of courting ritual he and his family does.

Kalim Al-Asim 💛

The only one who knows about the gesture you've shown towards him.

Even though you've dated the heir of the Al-Asim family, this cutie pie still is head over heels for you and as soon as he saw you fanning yourself in an aggressive pace, he knew that you also loved him as much as he loves you.

You did this during the first stage of your relationship with him and he absolutely adores it whenever you did again with him even though you're taken by him.

He tends of kiss your cheek and holds you hands with his warm ones.

"Why are you still doing it? You know that you don't have to do it all over again, for I am already yours, my jewel."

Just like Idia, he tends to buy the most expensive and most decorative hand fans you've ever seen.

Knows the fan language because of his female relatives but tends to learn some new ones to prevent some misunderstandings.

He will be the kind of guy who tends to cover the two of you with your fan whenever he gives you a smoocharoo on the lips <333

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland fic #twisted wonderland x reader #twst idia shroud x reader #twst kalim #kalim x reader #twst floyd leech #floyd leech x reader #kalim al asim x reader #idia shroud x reader #twst fluff #twst headcanons #twst fic #twst idia #twst imagines #idia x reader #kalim al asim #floyd leech fluff

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zvdvdlvr · 1 year

Note

🌌 -> milky way! royal!au. send in a character from any fandom i write for with a plot idea. rwmus lupin/male reader. remus is a king and reader just wants to read his books. so like established relationship but remus is tired of doing king stuff so he goes to annoy his husband. tysm !

- 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐡𝐮𝐬𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐝

𝒏𝒂𝒗𝒊. | 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 | 𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒓𝒚 𝒑𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔, 𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒆 𝒈𝒐𝒆𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒔𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒍𝒚 𝒉𝒖𝒔𝒃𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒍𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 𝒎𝒍𝒎, 𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒔𝒖𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕 { 1 }, 𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒚 𝒘𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒈?, 𝒐𝒐𝒄 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒊 𝒃𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒊𝒏

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈!𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒙 𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒈!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒓𝒆𝒒��𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒉𝒎𝒚𝒈𝒐𝒅!!! 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒐 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒊 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒎𝒚 𝒘𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒖𝒍

{ 🕯️ }

"and what do you plan on doing if the snape clan retaliates?" a lady of the court asked, voice smug and nosey.

remus sighed and massaged his temples. "lady kellner, if a retaliation comes upon us, we will send for troops from the potter and black family. now, may i request we meet in a fortnight?"

the kellner pair grumbled and muttered at the brush off, but sat down and nodded in agreement with the rest of the court.

with that done, remus stood, nodded, and willed himself not to sprint to his room.

{ 🕯️ }

the door opened and closed. y/n looked up from his book, shook his head, and resumed his spot in his readings.

remus unbuttoned his dress shirt and made his way to where his husband was manspreading. "hello, love. how goes midday?"

"are you or are you not meeting with-" y/n started, a faint teasing smile on his face.

remus groaned while walking up the three granite stairs to the area of the kings' shared rooms. "i cannot stand being in another meeting when i have your face to see. please tell me you'll have mercy on me and entertain your king," remus requested, kicking off his shoes and crawling onto the humongous bed.

y/n shut his book and let remus curl into y/n's chest. remus hummed and shut his eyes. "i may assume the kellner clan were there, yes?" y/n asked. y/n traced along the raised skin called scars on remus's face.

"they aren't a clan," remus scoffed. "they just-"

"have 12 kids, remus. yes- it's a clan. i'm telling you: they're preparing them for war," y/n continued. his voice was incredulous- remus himself had been the one to call them the kellner clan as a joke.

remus laughed at his husband's tone. "on a different not," he began again. "the full moon rises soon. . ."

y/n looked down to see remus wiggling his eyebrows suggestingly. y/n snorted a laugh and picked up his book again, tired of remus's antics.

"read to me," remus requested, curling deeper into y/n.

without looking up y/n replied, "this is a horror story. you wouldn't care much for it."

"we should go outside." remus's statement fell on deaf ears.

"remus, close your eyes and rest. i know you're tired," y/n commanded.

internally, remus sighed. "i will do so on one condition," he said smugly.

y/n turned and looked at remus. "proceed, then."

"i get three kisses."

y/n chuckled. "lord merlin, you're a child trapped in a man's body- no- you've been spending too much time with the potters and blacks," y/n said. "three kisses and you'll close your eyes and stay quiet?"

remus nodded.

y/n puckered his lips in a comical manner and placed three short kisses on remus's lips.

remus shut his eyes.

y/n opened his book and began to read once more. a minute ticked by. "remus john lupin, stop pretending to snore!"

remus laughed obnoxiously, laughing even harder when y/n gave a half hearted attempt at shoving remus off the bed.

#fluff #x reader #x male reader #jules writes 📓 🖊#jules writes 📓🖊#harry potter #male reader #remus lupin x you #remus lupin blurb #jules's 800 follower celebration #jules's celebrations 🥳

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 years

Text

Just a Dream

Fandom: Marvel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Female Reader, Steve Rogers, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers

Word Count: 2517 // Rating: Mature

Summary: It was two weeks after the day she turned eighteen All dressed in white, going to the church that night

Tags/ Warnings: My Writing, Halloween Challenge, Writing Challenge, Songfics, Marvel Cinematic Universe, MCU, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, Weddings, Grief, Funerals, Established Relationship, Wedding Day, War Time, Change to Storyline, Steve Doesn’t Go To War, Army, IDK how they do the flag thing, Love Letters, Engagements, 1940s Era, Just a Dream // Carrie Underwood, I Wonder Who’s Kissing Her Now // Bing Crosby, The Song Varies But I Like The Bing Version, Lyrics, Reader’s Wedding Dress

Notes: This is part of my writing Challenge for Halloween 2022. All fics are based off of songs I love. The aim is to write one fic a day for 15 days straight. I’m doing a similar thing for Christmas but they will all be headcanons [requests welcome for that] Enjoy x

15 DAYS OF SONGFICS FOR HALLOWEEN (OCT 15TH - OCT 31ST)

I sat on my bed my fingers combing through the box of letters in my lap. They were dirty, fingerprints full of grime across the page where he’d stopped and started either picking what to say or being torn away from writing to me. But I didn’t care. My fingers deftly selected the one I’d be looking for. One of his most recent ones. I unfolded it carefully a small smile coming to my lips as I saw his familiar chicken scratch handwriting on the page.

Y/N,

Sorry I haven’t written to you much these past few weeks. I was hoping to get this one to you by your birthday so if it’s late let’s pretend it's the post office’s fault, not mine. I hope you have the best day sweetheart. I know we already planned everything but I was hoping that I’d be home on the day to give you that ring we saw at that jewellers down on 3rd street. But when did the pair of us ever get that lucky? I promise as soon as I’m back that ring’ll be on your finger and we’ll be in that church.

Love you always

Buck

My thumb swiped over his name as if I was trying to absorb the love through the page into my body. I sighed and placed it back in its box before I bent down and placed my shoes in front of me, slipping into them one by one. As my foot hit the bottom of my left dainty court shoe I felt something underneath my toes. I wiggled them trying to get a grip on what it was. It was round and cold against my stocking-covered foot. A sixpence. I smiled. My mother, ever the traditional and also the efficient. God knows how long that had been in there just waiting for the day. I stood up and smoothed my dress out careful for the creases of where I had been sat not to show.

‘Oh you just look,’ my mother said. I turned to find her standing in the doorway. She was in a stiff skirt and suit jacket, a small hat nestled in her hair, and she was looking at me with tears in her eyes. She came into the room and grabbed me by the elbows as she looked me up and down. ‘You look, beautiful sweetheart,’ she said thickly. I tried to swallow the lump in my throat. ‘Thanks Ma, do you really think this is still right though? I mean …white?’ I whispered gesturing to my dress. It was simple, skirting around my mid-shin with long sleeves and a moderate v-shaped neckline though I knew it would be enough to get tongues wagging. ‘I bought it specially,’ Mom said, ‘besides anyone says a word they’ll have me to deal with-’

‘Girls,’ my Dad said cutting her off. He stood by the bedroom door nervously, ‘we oughta get going. Traffic..’ He didn’t linger instead he headed back downstairs leaving me to watch where he had disappeared. I felt my mother caress my arms softly and then she headed to the door and waited for me. I looked at her trying to push the lump that had returned in my throat down. With my head held high I walked towards her and we headed downstairs and into the car that my Dad was waiting in.

The ride to the church wasn’t all that long though it felt eternal as my Mom babbled on nervously. Eventually, we pulled outside a grand old building that was starting to look more and more out of place in the middle of downtown Brooklyn. My Dad pulled the car to the kerb and motioned for us to get out which we did, standing on the sidewalk as he pulled around into the parking lot and reappeared, looking harried, a few moments later. ‘That parking lot is busy as hell,’ my Dad griped. ‘Frank,’ my Mom said in a warning tone. ‘That’s a good sign,’ he said quickly, ‘plenty of people.’

I didn’t say anything. My stomach had formed a colossal pit inside itself and my legs felt heavier than lead. I couldn’t focus on anything else but walking up those stairs to that front door. I entered first, my parents behind me, and looked out into the grand hall of the church. It was lined with stone pillars, ornate statues on every wall and stained glass windows that were now blocked out from the light on one side from where New York had continued to grow around them. As the door made a noise heads turned towards me pew by pew, taking me in. Some smiled. Some bowed their heads. Then as my eyes swept down to the front of the line I saw Steve. He stood up watching me closely.

I felt tears burn my eyes and I pulled the veil that had completed my outfit down over my face blocking me somewhat from view. Music started gently in the background as if announcing our arrival.

And then, he was there. At the end of that aisle waiting for me. Bucky. Except he wasn’t him. His handsome face wasn’t smiling back at me as planned. No, instead, a cold hard wooden casket was propped up in front of the altar draped in an American flag.

I felt bile at the back of my throat. Anger. He fought for that flag. Died for that flag. And here it was like some horrible reminder separating me from him one last time.

I felt my Dad’s large hand press into the small of my back, edging me forward though my feet didn’t want to go. I walked down the aisle, my head bowed so I couldn’t see everyone watching me, listening to the clack of my heels on the tatty tiled floor.

We got to the front quickly and my parents slid into the pew behind Steve. He stood there awkwardly looking as if he was trying to decide whether or not to hug me. His eyes were red-rimmed and tears brimmed in them as I stood there. I couldn’t do it any longer. I couldn’t look at him. So, I sat down and he quickly followed sitting next to me in the pew. My vision was blurry and my head bowed but I still spotted the order of service as Steve pressed it gently into my lap. Bucky’s face beamed up at me bringing with it a new wave of silent tears. I heard someone up ahead clear their throat and looked up to see the preacher standing at his lectern, itching to begin.

‘The funeral director tells me everyone expected is now seated,’ he said sadly as the music faded out, ‘so I would like to begin by asking everyone to bow their heads as we come together in prayer.’

I dropped my eyes to my booklet, opening it so I could read the order of service as he started to speak.

‘Dear Lord, we ask you today that you lift up the soul of our dearly departed Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes and with that heal the hurt that has brought us all together on this very sad day,’ he said. I fought the urge to snort. He spoke as if one church service was going to fix everything. As if it was going to pull the knife that had been sticking into my chest for the past few weeks out. My mind wandered, blocking him out, as I dropped my eyes to the page which listed the readings and songs I had chosen for today. As I did I felt a gentle hand slip into mine. Steve.

His fingers were cold and slender. Entirely unlike Bucky who could wrap both of my hands in just one of his. But like I would with Bucky I didn’t shake him off. It wasn’t what I wanted, what I yearned for, but it was enough to keep me from breaking down entirely. Like it had been a week ago.

‘I don’t want to meet with them,’ I said folding my arms across my chest in an effort to hold myself together. My Mom pushed the kitchen door to and turned to me, her face sympathetic yet thunderous. ‘Well you have to,’ she said. ‘Why?’ I said pathetically, ‘I don’t care what they pick. Steve can do it what does it matter.’ ‘It matters because it’s important that Bucky gets a decent service!’ she hissed. She was desperate to yell at me I could tell but the threat of guests in the next room and the fact I kept spontaneously bursting into tears seemed to stave her off, ‘and it might have escaped your notice but you and Steve are all that boy had left. Now, I know you don’t feel like talking to people but I doubt Steve does either. And I know it’s not the same love but he’s hurting too. Maybe a little support from you wouldn’t go a miss.’

I stared at her. Her eyebrows were skirting the top of her forehead and I felt annoyed at just how right she was. I trudged past her and into the living room where Steve was sitting opposite a portly gentleman who was offering him a brochure that Steve took and started to leaf through. The pair of them looked up as I entered and Steve threw the brochure onto the coffee table.

‘Miss Y/N?’ the man said as I sat down on the couch beside Steve, ‘Steve said you’d be along in the minute. We were just going through the brochure and I was just asking Steve if he’d thought about opening hymns.’ ‘We hadn’t started properly,’ Steve said sheepishly. ‘Of course not,’ the man said, ‘though I did say Make Me A Channel of Your Peace is a really nice one.’ ‘No,’ I said my voice hard. ‘Or Amazing Grace-’ ‘Buck,’ I said my voice strangling his name as it came out. I had barely spoken it since we had heard the news, ‘he didn’t go to church. He didn’t know any hymns.’ ‘Yeah,’ Steve said, ‘what about a song instead?’ ‘Well, the organist-’ ‘Would be able to read any sheet music we got right?’ Steve said overriding the gentleman who was looking a little irked. ‘Yes, I’m sure they would,’ he said setting aside the sheet of paper he was holding.

‘What should we pick?’ I said nervously looking at Steve. He looked exhausted. His face was practically grey and the bags under his eyes were more black than purple. He also looked thinner, if that were even possible, his face a little more gaunt. ‘I wonder who’s kissing her now,’ he said without missing a beat then his gaze caught mine. He dropped his head nervously as he mumbled, ‘he loved that one…played it the entire day the first time he met you..damn near broke my record player.’

That familiar lump returned to my throat as I pictured them sitting in Steve’s tiny front room him putting the needle back again and again so the song would play. It wasn’t even my memory and it was like a knife to the gut.

‘Shoulda never turned him down that day,’ I said with a chuckle which surprised everyone in the room. ‘Nah,’ he said, ‘he needed knocking down a peg or two.’ ‘I bet it bruised his ego,’ I said sadly. ‘Never, you know Buck…never backed down from a challenge,’ he said and I nodded though it was tiny. His words hit me like a freight train. He was right. Bucky never did back down from a challenge. This was why we were here. ‘Right,’ the man said clapping his hands together in order to move proceedings along. As he started to babble on about psalms and readings I stared at the wall behind him blankly. Until, after a moment, I felt a tiny hand slip into mine on the couch beside me. My fingers laced into his at once and I didn’t let go until that man was firmly out the front door.

My not paying attention had lasted longer than I had expected because when I looked up I found everyone was standing and Steve’s hand was tugging me upwards. We sang a couple more songs. My Dad got up and said the eulogy, a fact a was thankful for as neither Steve nor I figured we could get through it in one piece, and then just like that it was over. Army officials descended from the sidelines in perfect unison as we stood watching their dance. I could feel Steve stiffen beside me. Out of patriotism or longing, I didn’t know which. And then one of them was in front of me offering a folded-up flag out to me like some medal of honour.

Dozens of eyes burned into me as I looked at this man. Stern. Unyielding. I reached out and took the flag off of him holding it to my chest but it was no use. As a horn started to play a military procession and several men lifted Bucky’s casket off of its stand my heart broke.

It was like a bullet ripping through me, fragmenting my heart into pieces. I wanted to drop to my knees. I wanted to scream. Sob my heart out. But I couldn’t. I was stuck. As they moved passed me leading Bucky to the hearse I stood frozen to the spot. Steve and my Dad grasped me gently by the elbows and pushed me forward. It was a wonder one of them didn’t have to move my feet in step either.

It was like wading through custard. Wading through custard on a road a mile long. Like I was dreaming. I wished I was. I willed myself to wake up. Hoping that when I came to I’d be lying in bed with Bucky, his arms wrapped around me as he gently caressed my hair. I wanted him to ask me what my nightmare was about and for us to laugh at how preposterous the idea was because he would never leave me.

I wanted to walk out this very door as I had planned. My Dad and Steve were still behind me but Bucky was on my arm instead, confetti around us as we celebrated being newlyweds. Like we should’ve been doing today.

But I couldn’t.

Y/N,

I’m coming home! Well for a while at least. They’re shipping us somewhere new so in the downtime me and you will be back together. And I know just what we’re doing first!

Tell your Ma to start organising a date for the church. I’ll be back in two weeks so anything after then is fine. I don’t want to waste another minute. And tell Steve to get to writing his best man speech, can’t have him letting the side down.

Love you always,

Buck

Baby, why'd you leave me, why'd you have to go I was counting on forever, now I'll never know Oh I'll never know

#my writing #just a dream #Bucky Barnes #Bucky Barnes x Reader #bucky x female reader #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #1940s bucky barnes #bucky barnes angst #angst #1940s #steve rogers #pre serum steve rogers #pre serum steve #marvel #mcu #halloween writing challenge #Halloween #halloween challenge

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idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 · 2 years

Text

To Find You Again

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69 & KO / @thirteenisles

Relationship: Pre-Established; Anthony Bridgerton x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your father hated the Bridgertons so much he’d put an ocean between you and Anthony. But, three years after going to America, you’re back in the Ton and hoping Anthony hadn’t married while you were gone.

Word Count: 11.5k

Warnings: Smut. Unprotected sex. Loss of virginity. Period typical misogyny and gender roles. Shitty fathers. Men are dicks. Major character injury. Drowning.

Comments: We had a lot of fun writing this one so we hope it as much as the first one! xx

do not repost, do not claim as your own

Then

Anthony had been watching you all night. You may not have been the diamond, but he thought you were more radiant and as soon as you finished your dance with another Lord, he had to ask you for a dance.

“May I have this dance?” Lord Bridgerton asked.

You hesitated, but he was a Viscount and you couldn’t exactly say no, not that you wanted to either. He was clearly the most desirable man in attendance. “Of course, Lord Bridgerton,” you smiled and gave him a small curtsy before you let him guide you out onto the dance floor.

Everyone knew the Bridgertons, but you had no idea how great a dancer the Viscount was. He was heads and shoulders the best dancer you had danced with and time felt as if it had slowed down as you danced with him.

When you accepted his dance, you had no idea how hard and fast you’d fall for Lord Bridgerton, just like you had no idea of your fathers long standing dislike of the Bridgertons and the lengths he’d go to keep you away from them.

Anthony easily swept you off your feet with his charm and you were the first woman who challenged him and he fell hard for you. He was literally smitten with you. He hadn’t been interested in the idea of married since the death of his father, but all it took was a dance with you for him to know deep in his heart that he wanted to marry you.

He surprised everyone in how seriously he was in courting you. He took you out for ice cream, for walks, and he was your permanent dance partner at balls.

But, when it became clear to your father that Anthony Bridgerton was serious about you and wanted to marry you, he spent a whole day packing the house up while you were out with Anthony and his mother as a chaperon. He tore your whole world down when he told you that you were to move to America.

You had sobbed as you told him you were close to getting engaged, that you had a life here, but your father was adamant that you would never marry a Bridgerton. He was so steadfast in his beliefs that he wanted to put a whole ocean between you and Anthony Bridgerton and every mile closer to America you got, the more your heart broke. Not only were you not going to marry the love of your life, but you didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye to him.

Anthony was ripped from you in a second and you cried your entire way to America. All you could think about was how you lost the man you loved and you’d never see him again.

You spent years in America.

It was far from the comfortable life you had in London, but you had no say in it and you were miserable the whole time.

But, your father’s business didn’t take in America the way it had in London. He tried time and again to marry you off to an American man, but you refused. Anyone you met you knew you to be kind and considerate, but you were stubborn and rude to every man your father tried to marry you off to. Some of them were nice men, you could give them that, but none of them compared to Anthony. You may have been in America, but your heart remained across the ocean in London with Anthony, and if you could not marry Anthony, then you would not marry at all.

Your father went as far as telling you that Anthony was a married man, and you tried to mend your broken heart, but there was no getting over Anthony Bridgerton.

But, as fate would have it, your father was forced to return to London. Between you driving off any suitable American man and his business failing, if he were to find you a man with money, it would have to be with London.

Now

You were a bit older, but with a new dress, you made your return to society with your father by you side and he played the Ton like a chess board as he paired you up with Lords he deemed suitable. Not that any of them compared to Anthony.

You spent all night looking for Anthony, but between the endless dances you couldn’t find him. You didn’t know if he would even be in attendance or if your father was right and he had found another woman to be his Viscountess.

It felt as if the night went on forever, but finally you were able to excuse yourself from the dancefloor and your father to fetch yourself a glass of lemonade, parched from the constant dancing. Your feet ached from the dancing and you glanced down at your feet as you made your way to the refreshments and you completely missed the man in front of you until you walked right into him.

“My Lord I am—” your words died on your tongue when you looked up and found the brown eyes you hadn’t gone a day without thinking about.

Anthony couldn’t believe his eyes as he stared at you. Three years. It’s been three years since he last saw you. You disappeared without a word and his heart was shattered. He became so cold and distant and stopped believing in love. He spent so many nights at brothels and had convinced himself that he loved an opera singer, but it wasn’t love, it was just a distraction. The only love he ever felt was for you and seeing you again all this time later made the world around him go quiet as he focused on you. He didn’t know what had happened to you, but you truly had grown into a beautiful woman.

Your eyes were wide as you looked back at him before you breathed, “Anthony?”

“How? What? I—“ Anthony breathed out shakily as he tried to wrap his head around everything.

You didn’t know how to explain it and you swallowed thickly, “I’m back.”

“Why?” He asked, surprised more than anything.

His words made you furrow your brows as your heart twisted, “what do you mean why?”

“Why are you back? Why did you leave?” He reached out to hold your wrist, terrified that you weren’t truly there, that if he didn’t hold you that you’d disappear before his very eyes once again.

“I didn’t have a choice. Father had business ventures in America and took me with him. We only just returned a few days ago,” you told him as your eyes glanced down at his hold on your wrist, but you didn’t pull away from him.

“I—“ Anthony could hear someone calling his name but he didn’t want to pull away from you, afraid that if he did you’d be gone again. It was Benedict, Anthony realized as his brother kept calling for him, unaware of what was transpiring between you. Anthony wanted nothing more than to tell his brother off, but he sighed as he looked at you. “I’ll find you later,” he promised you before releasing your wrist and walking past you towards his brother, leaving you alone and in the middle of the ball.

Anthony, you realized, looked both completely different and the exact same as the day you last saw him. Your father wanted you to be over him, you tried to get over him, but watching him walk away left you cold and you were reminded of how hopelessly in love with Viscount Bridgerton you still were.

You stood there for a long moment before you managed to even retrieve a glass of lemonade, but your hands still shook and your chest ached. You knew you needed to return to your father, but that meant dancing with more Lords that weren’t Anthony and Anthony was the only man you wanted. You searched the whole night for Anthony, but every time you thought you saw him again, your father was quick to pull you into another dance with another Lord.

Anthony didn’t see you for the rest of the night and it made him wonder if he even saw you at all or if his mind was playing tricks on him.

By the time the night was over, his mind was clouded with emotions and he just needed… He didn’t know what he needed but he needed something, so he did the only thing he had been doing: he went to Sienna.

He had been seeing Sienna for a while now. He cared for Sienna, even thought he loved her, but even as he fucked her, he couldn’t shake you from his mind. He should have been focused on the warmth of her body and how she felt around him and her moans, but no matter how much he tried to focus on her, he couldn’t. You were the only thing he could think about.

Once they were both spent and he collapsed beside her, his chest was tight as he replayed memories of you. Anthony thought about the warmth of your hand in his, the way he always felt so light and airy when he was with you, and how bright your smile was when you looked at him and how your eyes sparkled.

But then on the day he went to ask your father for your hand, he found your house vacant and you were gone. Just like that, you were gone. Part of him died that day and his family knew it. Anthony was just… Different after that. Distant. Colder.

He didn’t know what happened, you were just gone.

Anthony didn’t know how you fought with your father to stay because you believed Anthony was close to proposing or how badly you wanted stay in the Ton. But your father wouldn’t have it. He wouldn’t have you marry a Bridgerton.

The next day, before the sun rose, you were sitting in a carriage staring out the back window, watching the Ton get smaller and smaller and your heart broke as you thought you’d never see him again. By the time you came back, your father had tried to convince you that Anthony had forgotten about you and married someone else. But he was wrong. Anthony never moved on. He found Sienna sure, but that was only to fill the hole left by you, and it wasn’t love, not really, it was his mind trying to trick his heart into thinking it was so he could get over you.

But now you were back.

“I saw Anthony last night at the ball,” you told your father over breakfast, but he only hummed as he continued to read his paper.

“There’s really no reason for him to be there unless he was escorting his sister, which, last I checked, Daphne married the Duke of Hastings nearly a year ago.”

“He has other sisters, father,” you replied quickly before pushing your food around your plate. “Though... Perhaps he is unmarried?”

“I highly doubt it. Someone of Lord Bridgerton’s status is surely married by now,” he told you as he looked over his paper. “Don’t be a fool and hope that you still have a chance, darling. You need to move on. I thought we have had this discussion already.”

“Yes, of course, father,” you said and forced a smile as your heart twisted in your chest.

“We will find you a suitable husband,” your father smiled before he turned back to his paper.

His words made your blood go cold but you nodded, “of course, father.”

You were quick to get ready for the next ball, wanting to be there early to maximize your chance of seeing Anthony again. But your father, of course, had other plans for you and spent the whole night trying to keep you occupied with dancing with other Lords.

But, it wasn’t like Anthony had been there nearly as long as you. He was late to the ball, much to Violet’s displeasure, because he was …occupied with Sienna. He was disheveled by the time he got to the ball, for which Violet chastised him before she fixed his collar.

Just like the last ball, you searched for him, and as soon as your eyes found him, you picked up the bottom of your skirt so you could walk over to him quickly. But, you stopped midstep when you realized how disheveled he looked, your heart beating hard in your chest.

It… It looked like he had …engaged in certain activities before he got to the ball and when he wrapped his arm around Eloise, you realized that he was only there for his sister and that his wife was probably at home.

Your hands shook as you turned around and headed toward the refreshment table and busied yourself with getting some lemonade, but your chest ached with every breath and you were hot with jealousy of whoever he was with; whoever was lucky enough to have him in every way you had dreamed about the last three years.

Your father was right, you realized. Anthony Bridgerton had to have married while you were gone and it shattered your heart. You did your best to avoid him and his family all night and you wished you had never come back.

By the end of the night you were standing outside with your father who was happily talking your ear off about the suitors who were coming to see you tomorrow but you were barely paying attention. You were going to have to move on from Anthony, you realized and nothing had ever hurt you more.

The summer air had a chill to it as you waited for your carriage and just as it pulled up, you heard your name. The voice was familiar and you looked towards it and realized it was Violet Bridgerton. Violet was standing there with a surprised expression on her face and suddenly Anthony was behind her, but before you could say anything your father pressed his hand to your back and pushed you into the carriage.

“Why wou—“ you started before you bit your tongue at the cold look in your father’s eyes. Every time you saw Anthony it tore your heart in two, but the look of surprise on Violet’s face hurt in a different way. She had always been so kind to you.

Violet turned to Anthony. “Was that really her or was I seeing things?” She asked, but Anthony was too busy watching your carriage pull away.

“It’s her,” he breathed a moment later and he only turned to Violet once your carriage was out of view. “It’s her.” He hadn’t imagined things last ball. You were really back in London. “You might have your wish yet, mother,” he told her. If he married this season, it was going to be to you. No one else mattered to him.

Anthony made a point to visit your family house the next day, but he was met by a line of suitors. He was a Viscount, and more than a suitor, at least in his mind, so he helped himself past the line. He needed to see you, talk to you, have you.

You were sitting in there looking rather bored as an older man chatted your ear off and you heard someone walk in which made your father stand up, “Lord Bridgerton, what a surprise.” His words immediately made you perk up and you smiled as you looked over at him.

Anthony’s whole body relaxed at the sight of you. “Forgive me,” he whispered before he forced his voice louder. “I had to know if my eyes had deceived me.”

You looked at him like he was the only thing in the room and your father made it a point to stand in front of you to block your view, “my daughter is currently being courted, Lord Bridgerton. I would appreciate if you came back another time.” Or never, your father mouthed.

“Is she?” Anthony asked, straightening his posture. “Well, I assure you I am content to wait in the impressively long line for just a moment of your daughter’s time. Though, I should like to remind you that I am wealthier than every man in that line, honourable, and without scandal, which is certainly not the case for most of them.”

He was single? He wasn’t married? That made you light up even more and the tears you shed last night felt like a distant memory.

“I can assure you, Lord Bridgerton, I know what’s best for my daughter. So I would kindly appreciate if you would leave,” your father nodded to one of his footman, “please see Lord Bridgerton out.”

Anthony’s eyes flashed with hurt and betrayal as he looked at you, believing that this was your own doing, but it wasn’t and you immediately stood up. “Father I—“ you started, but the look your father gave you immediately made you sink back down in your seat.

Anthony’s eyes darted between you and your father as the footman tried to escort him out of room and once he caught on, his shoulders hardened. “Do not touch me, I am leaving,” he said forcefully to the footman before brushing his vest off. He gave you another look before he left the room. Anthony realized he had to win your father over to have you, the question was how he was to do that.

Your father never liked the Bridgertons. You were never sure why but you knew it had something to do with Edmund and he held it against the whole family and especially Edmund’s eldest son. It didn’t matter that Anthony was a Viscount or what that could mean for you and your family, Anthony was Edmund’s son and your father wouldn’t let that match happen.

Anthony left your house shaken, but he wasn’t going to give up on you, especially that easily. He cared for you and he would do whatever it took to win your father over.

“Oh, an over protective male figure preventing you from marrying who you love?” Daphne chimed in when she was over one afternoon and the rest of the family enlightened her to your return to the Ton and the malicious intent of your father.

Anthony glared at her, “this is different. Lord Windsor is making it impossible. He simply does not like our family, never has.”

“He certainly does not,” Violet sighed. “But you’re not going to give up, are you, Anthony?”

“I’m not. I’m not losing her again,” he replied firmly. He was determined and he’d do whatever it took to get you back.

“Good,” Violet smiled softly before she looked over at the rest of the family. “Then we shall do whatever we can to change the Lord’s opinion on this family.”

“I think we should invite them out to the country, to Simon and I’s home. Her father will be in the presence of a Duke so he will have to be on his best behavior as word travels fast,” Daphne spoke up with a smile.

“Oh yes, who would be stupid enough to turn down an invitation from the Duke of Hastings?” Benedict added. “It would damage his reputation.”

“Very well,” Anthony nodded. “Make it happen, sister.”

Daphne did, and within a week an invitation was delivered to your house and as you opened the mail your eyes widened. “Father,” you said as you walked into his study. “The Duke of Hastings has invited us out to his home for a week in advance to their ball.”

“Hastings you say?” He put his paper down. “Is that not the Duke the Bridgerton girl married last season?”

“I…I do believe so father,” you bit your lip. “But you cannot turn down an invitation from the Duke. It’s an honour to even be considered and father, people would talk if they found out we declined an offer from the Duke himself.”

“But it is not an offer from the Duke, it is an offer from the Bridgertons who do not seem to get the message,” he said sharply.

“See for it yourself, it has the Duke’s signature,” you told him as you placed it on his desk. You watched his mouth tighten at the signature because he knew you were right. He couldn’t decline. He could, of course, go alone and say you were unwell, but perhaps attending and making Lord Bridgerton see you happily dancing with another Lord would make him back off. More than anything your father wanted Lord Bridgerton off his back and this could be his only opportunity to do so. Plus, he couldn’t help but think how lovely it would be to foil Lord Bridgerton’s plans and break his heart by securing your engagement to another Lord at the Duke’s estate.

“Very well,” he said and put the invitation down. “I suppose we are attending.”

You tried your best to hide the giant smile on your face as you nodded, “I’ll begin packing then father.” You were smiling hard as you headed up to your room because you knew Anthony would be there. You had to look your best for him so you packed your best dresses and the best jewelry, and you had no idea that Anthony was fussing over his clothes for you the same way. He needed to dress to impress both you and your father.

And a few days later, you were traveling to the Hastings estate, excited at the thought of seeing Anthony again.

“I hope that smile is after one of the several Lords not named Bridgerton who are pursuing you,” your father said to you in the carriage.

“Of course father,” you lied through your teeth but your father hummed, not convinced.

“I believe a few Lords may be close to a proposal,” he told you, wanting you to keep your eyes on the true prize. His words made you nervous because you wanted Anthony. You only cared about Anthony, none of the other dumb Lords. “Perhaps you’ll even be engaged by the end of the week,” your father told you, the corner of his lip twitching up.

You gave your father a true smile, because yes, you were sure you would be engaged by the end of the week, but not to any of the Lords he had in mind. Your smile satisfied him and the rest of the ride was quiet until you arrive and the Hastings estate and you couldn’t stop smiling it was so beautiful. You knew part of the reason was because Daphne put in the work to bring it to its glory.

When you stepped outside the carriage, the Duke and Daphne made their way toward you both. “We are so happy you will be joining us this week,” the Duke said with a smile and you curtsied.

“Thank you for the invitation, Your Grace.”

“It’s our pleasure,” the Duke smiled before looking at your father, his smile slipping just a bit. “Lord Windsor.”

Your father gave a slight nod, “Your Grace, thank you for inviting us.”

You could see through the Duke’s smile, “yes of course. I do wish to hear all about America, so perhaps we discuss in the parlour while the women have tea?”

Your father gave you a pointed look to tell you to behave before he turned back to the Duke with a smile, “yes, of course, Your Grace.”

“Ah, fantastic. Let us go then,” the Duke said and led your father into the parlour while Daphne led you out back where her mother and sisters were having tea.

“Your Grace, I cannot tell you how thankful I am you would open your home to us,” you told her as you took your seat.

“The pleasure is all ours, I assure you,” Daphne smiled. “It has been so long since we’ve last spoke,” she continued. “You went to America, yes?”

You nodded, “we did yes. America is not the most pleasant place, I must confess. I longed to return back to England and I am very happy to be home.” You smiled and a maid came over and poured you both some tea.

“I could only imagine,” Daphne nodded. “Well, we are all certainly glad that you are home.”

“As am I, Your Grace,” you smiled and you two chatted until you heard the back doors open and the men came outside. You perked up the moment you spotted Anthony and even though he didn’t see you yet, all of your attention was on him. He looked gorgeous as ever, his hair brushed back and the deep blue of his jacket suited him so well, you couldn’t help but have your breath catch in your throat.

Daphne noticed immediately and smiled before she turned to look over at her brother, “Anthony!” She called. “Come say hello to our guest!”

Anthony all but had the same reaction, and he forgot to breathe the moment his eyes landed on you. His jaw tightened before he dipped his head and walked over to you and Daphne. His eyes dipped down your face before he breathed your name softly, “it is lovely to see you again.”

“It’s lovely to see you too, Lord Bridgerton,” you said with a soft smile that was reserved only for him, but your heart beat rapidly in your chest just being in his presence. He returned your smile, his chest aching because he wanted you and he hated not being able to just reach out and hold you the way he wanted.

You and Anthony were in your own little bubble as you looked at one another with adoration and it was clear there was something between you two and yet your father refused to see it happen. “Lord Bridgerton, we are leaving for the hunt now are you coming?” He called out.

It was subtle but you could see the way Anthony’s shoulders dropped just a bit before he swallowed and turned back to your father with a smile, “yes of course, Lord Windsor. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Anthony turned to you once more and gave you a smile, “until we meet again.” And just like that, he headed out with the rest of the men, leaving you alone with the women and you tried your best to not look so disappointed.

Daphne waited until they were gone before she turned back to you, “I have never seen Anthony like this before.”

“Like what?” You asked her even though you already knew where she was headed.

“Captivated by a woman,” she replied with a smile, and you smiled as you blushed and looked down at your cup of tea. You could only hope that at the end of this trip, you and Anthony would be engaged.

You didn’t know it, but Anthony wanted that more than anything, too. He even retrieved his mother’s ring from Aubrey Hall before he made the trip to the Hastings estate. It was winning over your father that would be the challenge. Anthony wanted to impress Lord Windsor this hunting trip to show that he could easily provide for you, but he knew he was not as great a shot as he would like to be.

Anthony was awful at hunting, complete shit honestly, and his chance of winning your father over at that was, well, grim. He couldn’t land a stag during hunting. And it wasn’t like he did any better winning your father over with anything else. The entire week Anthony attempted to show your father that he was a good guy and that he could provide and take care of you, but your father didn’t care. By the time the ball came around, your father was more focused on forcing you to socialize and dance with other Lords and keeping Anthony away from you at all costs.

No matter how many times you two tried to find one another you were pulled apart by your father.

It was so frustrating you could cry. All you wanted was Anthony and there was no good reason you couldn’t have him. Your father just kept telling you that you could do better and you deserved nothing but the best, but Anthony was a Viscount. Was that not good enough? Clearly he could provide for you, but he also genuinely cared about you and waited for you all this time. Every time you danced with another Lord, Anthony was watching you from the sidelines wanting it to be him. He could see you, looking over at him, and you were wishing the same thing.

Luckily, Benedict was eventually able to make is way to you between dances to ask you for a dance and once you accepted, he whisked you off onto the dance floor. Benedict purposely brought you closer to Anthony and switched places with him so you two could finally dance together and your whole body relaxed with Anthony.

“Lord Bridgerton,” you smiled as the dance started, more pep to your step than all the previous dances.

“My Lady, you look lovely tonight,” he smiled at you, the first smile since the night started.

“You look quite handsome tonight, My Lord,” it was the first time all night your smile was real.

“Not nearly as radiant as you,” he spun you around and your father was stewing in his corner, unable to do anything otherwise he’d cause a scene.

You giggled softly and had to restrain from pressing yourself against him. “I’ve missed you,” you confessed quietly.

“I have too,” his voice was soft. “I do not want to lose you again.”

“I don’t want to either,” you told him and let yourself lean into him just a little more. “I’ve tried everything but my father is unreasonable.”

“I do not wish to badmouth your father, but I do wish he’d give me a chance,” Anthony sighed before spinning you.

“As I said, he is being unreasonable,” you whispered. “I had to convince him to even accept this invitation.”

“Well, I am so happy you are here,” he said honestly.

“As am I,” you smiled. You loved any time you could get with him.

He easily glided across the dance floor with you, smiling the whole time. He really did care about you and loved you. He wanted nothing more than to propose but it was so hard with your father. “Tomorrow we’re all going to the lakes, are you looking forward to that?” He asked.

“Yes,” you bit your lip. “Sounds lovely. Though, I do hope you and your brothers don’t get too …out of hand, My Lord.”

“I’m sure they will be fine. I will have a talk with them,” he replied with a laugh and gave you a reassuring smile and a wink which made you laugh.

“Well, then I definitely look forward to it.”

But, you had no idea what the next day would bring.

The day started off so beautifully and you were so excited to be by the water, but your father had other plans by having Lord Gerry take you out in a boat and you were immediately miserable. All the joy you had for the day was sucked out of you.

All you wanted was to spend time with Anthony and his siblings, but instead you had to waste the afternoon with an old, boring Lord who took the joy out of everything and now you were sitting on a boat, miserable as this man talked and talked. You managed to make small talk and brush everything off until the man spoke of marriage and you immediately recoiled. “There is no way in hell I am marrying you,” you told him firmly.

“Excuse me?”He said as he stopped rowing.

“Take me back to the pier at once I must speak with my father,” you told him as you laced your fingers together but Lord Gerry got testy and rude with you and you couldn’t remember if it was you or him but next thing you knew, the boat flipped over.

The first thing you realized was how cold the water was despite the summer heat. The second was that the water was deeper than you thought it was and you panicked when you realized you couldn’t touch the bottom. On top of that, your dress was weighing you down and you kept going under the water which made you panic more and you couldn’t even scream.

It was your panicked splashing that grabbed the attention of everyone on shore and as soon as he saw you, Anthony didn’t hesitate. He sprinted toward the water, not wasting any time removing his jacket before he dived into the water and swam toward you.

You tried your best to stay above the water but it was so hard and exhausting and your panicking made it hard to gasp for breath. Your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen and when you felt an arm wrap around your middle, you thought it was Lord Gerry and the energy you should have been using to try to stay above water you used to try to fight him off, not wanting him to touch you.

Anthony tightened his grip around you as he struggled to keep you both above the water. “It’s me, it’s Anthony,” he told you as he started swimming toward shore. You relaxed at the sound of his voice and did your best to try to swim with him, but your dress was weighing you both down and your head kept dipping under the water.

Every time you resurfaced, you choked on the water. Anthony looked over at the shore and his jaw tightened when he realized how far away the shore still was and he knew what he had to do. Anthony’s grip on you loosened as he stopped swimming towards the shore and a flash of fear went through your body, terrified that he was going to leave you to drown.

“Anth—” you couldn’t even say his name before he gripped the back of your dress and pulled in opposite directions, tearing it at the seams before pushing it off your body, leaving you in just your underdress before he wrapped his arm back around you and started back for shore. It was much easier to tow you to shore now that you weren’t weighted down by the dress.

To no surprise, Lord Gerry had already made it to shore, but it was Benedict and Colin that made their way into the water as you got closer to shore and Benedict was quick to wrap his arm around you to take some of your weight as the water got shallower before they laid you back on the beach.

You were immediately swarmed by maids who covered your body with towels to protect your modesty and keep you warm as you coughed water out of your lungs. Your lungs burned and you were gasping for breath, completely disoriented but you still managed to reach out toward Anthony. Anthony couldn’t stop himself as he took your hand through the maids. “You’re okay, you’re safe now,” he told you, his voice shaky. There was only one other time in his life he had been that scared and he—

“Lord Bridgerton, a towel,” a maid said and offered a towel to him. He was just as drenched as you, if not more so considering he had more lays on than you in just your underdress, but he was quick to decline.

“I do not need one, give it to her. She’s freezing,” he snapped. He was okay and he just needed you to be too.

Of course, only then did your father insert himself into the situation to go after Anthony. “Get away from her!” Your father yelled before he grabbed Anthony’s arm and pulled him away from you. “How dare you even touch her!”

“How dare I touch her?” Anthony deadpanned and quickly pulled his arm free from your father’s grip. “She would have died!”

“Lord Gerry was more than capable of helping out of the water but you couldn’t help yourself could you, throwing yourself at my daughter time and time again after I have told you to stay away from her!” Your father yelled and it took everything in Anthony to not lash out physically.

If your lungs weren’t burning and you weren’t still trying to get it together you would have yelled at your father that Anthony just saved your life, but you didn’t have the strength.

“Lord Gerry is the reason the boat flipped in the first place! For the life of me I do not know what I’ve done to anger you so, but I have tried everything to fine your favour but you remain steadfast in your hatred of me to the point you’d rather your daughter drown?!” Anthony shouted back. Benedict said his name as he tried to stop his brother from making a scene, but Anthony shrugged him off. He wasn’t going to stand down when you nearly died.

“My daughter is perfectly capable of swimming. She did not need her help. You are out here causing a scandal for my family and I will not continue to see you do so. You will never marry my daughter!” Your father snapped, his voice louder than before. He opened his mouth to say more, but Simon turned his attention toward him.

“We will see her back to the house. She is freezing and should be looked over by a doctor and have a warm bath immediately,” his voice was firm, making it clear he would not allow questioning of his authority and the look he gave Lord Windsor would be enough to make anyone freeze in their spot. “I suggest you take a walk and think about the words you have uttered. The only one causing such scandal is you, Lord Windsor.”

Your father didn’t have much of a choice, but still, it wasn’t like he moved until the maids had you back on your feet with several towels wrapped around you. His mouth was tight into a line but another pointed look from Simon had him stomping off and it was only then that Anthony let himself shed some of his drenched layers as he shrugged off his outer coat and pulled his tie off.

Once you were back in the house, the maids helped you get undressed and they drew you a hot bath so you could warm up. The hot water was more than welcomed as it warmed your chilled body, but it did nothing to wash away from the embarrassment and shame you felt.

The likely hood of you marrying Anthony, you felt, was now slim to none. There was no way the Bridgerton family would want to associate themselves with your family, and your father made it very clear he was never going to accept Anthony.

By the time you were warmed up and redressed, a doctor had arrived to make sure you were alright. Your lungs still ached a bit but you were okay. You were okay because Anthony saved you. The evaluation was not long and the doctor deemed you alright, but in need of rest and taking it easy.

Once he had left, you turned to a maid, “I must thank Lord Bridgerton for saving me. Can you please let him know?”

“Yes, of course, My Lady,” the maid nodded and was quick to take her leave to find Anthony, not that it was hard as he was all but pacing down the hall from you.

As soon as Anthony heard you wanted to see him, he rushed toward your room, stopping right outside your door to take a moment to breathe before he walked in. Despite his hands shaking, he bowed out of respect before asking you how you felt.

The tightness in your chest got a little looser when you saw him, “I am well, My Lord, thanks to you.”

Anthony breathed out a sigh of relief, “I am glad to hear that, I was quite worried.”

You smiled softly at him. “I know my father was…” you didn’t know how to describe it. “But I wanted to thank you. If it weren’t for your quick actions…” you shook your head. “I do not wish to think about it. But thank you, Lord Bridgerton. My father may not be thankful, but I am.”

“You do not need to thank me. I will always be here to protect you,” he told you softly.

His words made your heart ache and you looked down. “I do not think my father will change his mind, Lord Bridgerton,” you said, your voice soft.

“I do not think so either,” he whispered back a moment later. He hated to admit it, but your father would not let up. Your father would rather see you drown than have Anthony come anywhere near you.

You were quiet for a long moment as you look down at your hands before meeting his eyes again. “I do not want to marry Lord Gerry,” you whispered.

“I do not wish for you to marry him either,” Anthony replied, his heartbreak reflecting in his eyes before he suddenly stood a little straighter as an idea came to mind. “I do, however, have an idea, but I do not know how you will take it.”

“Anything,” you breathed and sat up a little straighter.

“What if we don’t get his permission and we get married anyway? I don’t need a dowery from him or a blessing. I love you and I want to marry you,” he told you, meaning every word.

Your breath caught in your throat as you looked at him, your heart starting to race in your chest. “Do you truly mean that?”

He stepped closer to your bed and gently took your hand in his like he did at the edge of the water, “I wholeheartedly do. I love you. I have always loved you. I knew that three years ago and I never stopped loving you. I want to wake up each and every day and see your face and the same as we go to bed each night. I do not know how to not breathe when I’m without you. The moment I realized you were indeed back I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t let you go and I am in it for the long haul if you are too.”

His words made you forget how to breathe and you nodded as you squeezed his hand. “Yes,” you whispered with a smile, tears gathering in your eyes. “Yes, I will marry you, Anthony.” Anthony reached into his pocket and pulled out the ring box which he opened so you could see the ring inside. Your eyes widened and your shoulders straightened, “I— you had that on your person?” You asked, your voice soft.

“I have been carrying it around all week,” he confessed with a soft laugh. “ I have been planning on proposing for a while.”

You smiled, “and I had been hoping you would.” He was the only man you had ever wanted.

Anthony returned your smile before he pulled from the ring from the box and slid it onto your finger. The ring wasn’t a perfect fit, but the ring was perfect and your smile widened as you look down at it. “How will we marry without anyone knowing?” You asked him softly. Your father couldn’t know about it until after you were wed. You couldn’t risk being dragged back to America.

“I will find us a priest that can marry us before dawn. That way no one can separate us,” he told you softly but firmly, needing you to trust him.

Of course you did and you nodded, “okay.”

Once you were pronounced husband and wife there was nothing your father can do to change it.

Anthony nodded and picked your hand up so he could kiss your knuckles before he stepped back. He needed to find that priest. You glanced back down at the ring before you pulled it off and handed it back to Anthony. “I shall wear it once we wed,” you explained and he nodded as he secured it back in its box and put it back in his pocket.

“I will be back, I promise,” he told you before he slipped out.

And sure enough, that night Anthony was able to secure a priest to marry you both and he managed to slip down the hall into your room before dawn. You weren’t sure what you were expecting, but he was dressed in a perfectly tailored suit and you were quick to get out of bed and change into a nice dress before you both snuck through the halls to the entry were he had a horse waiting. Anthony helped you onto the horse and you held him tightly as he headed to the church.

“Is this actually happening?” You asked him after he helped you down from the horse and opened the church door for you. You weren’t convinced this wasn’t a dream and that you’d wake up on the side of the lake still gasping for breath

“It is,” he said softly and held his arm out to you. “Now, let us make you a Bridgerton.”

You took his arm with a big smile and let him guide you up to the alter. This wasn’t at all how you pictured marrying, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world because it meant marrying Anthony.

Anthony was never one for balls or weddings and or any of that showmanship, but even he wished he could have given you a better wedding. He wanted you to be able to plan it out and watch you walk toward him in a white gown. He knew your beauty would take his breath away. But as he stood at the alter with you in front of him, he realized he didn’t need it because he loved you and even now with the sunlight barely coming in through the stainglass windows, you were still the most beautiful woman in the world to him and he felt so incredibly lucky to be able to call you his wife.

The ceremony was simple and you took his hands in yours. The priest said a few words but you didn’t really hear them as you focused on Anthony and the deep colour of his eyes. “Do you, Lord Bridgerton, take this woman to be your faithfully wedded wife, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish ‘till death do you part?” The priest asked him and Anthony didn’t hesitate.

“I do,” he said firmly and squeezed both of your hands.

The priest nodded and turned to you and uttered the same words but you were trained on Anthony. “I do,” you said softly once he was done.

“Then with the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride,” the priest said with a small smile and took a step back, allowing Anthony to cup your face and press his lips to yours.

You imagined your first kiss more times than you could count but it was so much better than you could imagine and you pressed yourself against him, finally letting yourself soak in the feeling of him.

Anthony was your husband and you were his wife.

You were Viscountess Bridgerton and there was nothing your father could do about it.

Once you had parted from the kiss and caught your breath, Anthony thanked the priest and led you back outside and you were both smiling the whole way back to the Hastings estate.

By the time you got in, the morning light was beginning to come through the windows and Anthony took your hand in his as he rushed you up to your room before a maid could see you both, and as soon as the door was closed, he locked it and pressed his lips back to yours.

You didn’t think you could ever grow tired of the feeling of his lips on yours and you let him pull you flush against his body. Your fingers ran through the hair on the back of his head and your whole body was warm with a need you didn’t know you had.

“My Viscountess,” he whispered against your lips before he deepened the kiss and he let his hands roam your body. His touch pulled a sharp sound from your lips as it ignited a fire within you. You didn’t know how to touch him but you knew you need to.

But Anthony didn’t want to make it about him. This was about you. He guided you back to the bed and gently laid you down before he blanketed your body with his and looked down at you. You searched his eyes for a moment. “Anthony,” you whispered, unsure of what to say or do.

“I’ll only go as far as you want me to,” he told you softly as he reached up to cup your cheek. “But I want you to know that I want you.”

Your breath caught in your throat but you nodded. “I want you as well,” you told him softly.

He brushed his nose against yours as he held himself back, “are you sure?”

“Yes,” you breathed and ran your hands down his back. “You are my husband, Anthony, I want you. I… I need you.”

Your words pulled a soft groan from his lips before he reconnected your lips in a kiss. “I promise I will not hurt you. I love you and I want you to enjoy every moment of this,” he whispered.

“I trust you,” you whispered back before you kissed him again but you let him control it. You were a bit nervous, but you meant what said. You trusted him.

Anthony was determined to make it good for you. He broke the kiss to kiss along your jaw and neck and your eyes fluttered closed as you focused on him, his every kiss igniting something deep within you.

He took his time with you, wanting to make this special for you both. When he pulled away, it was only to help you sit up. “May I take this off you?” He asked as he gestured to your dress.

“Yes,” you nodded. “But…” you ran your hand up the front of his jacket, your skin burning with a blush.

The corner of his lip twitched up as he shrugged his jacket off before loosening the cuffs of his sleeves and rolling them up to expose his forearms, and he took his collar off as well. “Better?” He asked, his eyes shining.

You let out a shaky breath but nodded and let your hand slid up his forearm. Anthony smiled at your touch and leaned to press his lips to your forehead. You surprised him when you pulled back from him and kissed his jaw before you got off the bed and turned your back to him so he could unzip you.

Your heart raced in your chest as he stood behind you and gently took the zipper between his fingers and unzipped your dress, kissing each bit of skin he saw before dropping your dress to the floor. His hands found your hips and he turned you around. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen,” he told you and you blushed harder and tried to hide your face in his chest but he cupped your cheek and pulled you back. “Do not hide from me, my love. I want to see you, all of you,” he said, his voice sending a shiver through your body that settled between your legs.

“Anthony,” you whined softly.

He smirked and dipped his head to kiss just below your collarbone, “I want to make love to my wife.”

You wanted that too. More than anything. “Tell me what to do,” you whispered as you held his shoulder.

“Take these off for me. I want to see you,” he told you as he ran his hands down your body.

Your hands shook a little but you nodded and reached behind you to pull at the corset strings and it only took a moment before it loosened around you, Anthony’s gaze intense as he watched you.

You turned your back to him again, needing help with the top laces and his fingers expertly pulled the laces free from the bodice. You took a shaky breath before sliding the straps down your arms and letting it fall to the floor. As soon as the bodice hit the floor, Anthony cupped your chest, pressing his chest against your back with a soft groan at the feeling of you before he started to trail his lips down your neck and to your shoulder as he gently massaged your breasts in his hands.

It felt incredible and it had you throbbing between your legs as you leaned your head to the side to give him more room. “Anthony…” you breathed with a soft whine before you turned in his arms to kiss him, pressing yourself completely against him.

He kissed you deeply and gently laid you back down on the bed, only breaking the kiss so he could trail his lips down your body to your breasts. You gripped the shoulder of his shirt as you needed to hold onto something and he groaned against your skin as he nipped softly at your breast before wrapping his lips around your nipple, pulling a loud gasp from you. You certainly weren’t expecting it but God did it feel good.

Anthony brought his hand up to cup your other breast and gave it the same attention, pinching your nipple between his fingers as he watched your every expression. “Oh my God, Anthony,” you whined, it felt so good and you just wanted— No, you needed more. You needed him.

He groaned against your skin when you fisted his hair and switched sides, wanting to give each breast the same attention before he trailed his lips down your stomach. “Please, Anthony, I need you,” you moaned and he loved hearing you say it.

“May I can take these off?” He looked up at you as he asked, slipping his finger into the band of your underwear.

“Yes,” you nodded quickly and lifted your hips up to help him get them off.

As soon as they were off, Anthony’s hands ran up your legs to your thighs and slowly open your legs with a low groan. “Absolutely perfect,” he breathed. Your cheeks burned with a blush but you didn’t pull away from him, your chest heaving with anticipation.

Anthony leaned in and mouthed at your inner thigh before he slowly licked up your slit, sure to hold your hips down as he did. “Oh!” You shouted, your legs immediately closing around his head as your eyes widened.

He pulled your legs apart and focused on your clit, sure to look up at you the whole time. “Oh my God!” You moaned loudly. You didn’t know you could feel so good and Anthony moaned against you at how good you tasted. You tasted better than he could have imagined.

You surprised yourself when you moaned his name and tried to press yourself closer to him, your whole body hot with need. You felt so close, to what, you weren’t sure but it was overwhelmingly pleasurable and you just needed him to bring you there.

You fisted the bed sheet in your hand, needing to hold onto something and you closed your eyes to focus on him and the pleasure. “Oh God,” you moaned loudly, your back arching, and then it finally hit you and you came against his mouth with a loud moan of his name. It was the most intense thing you had ever experienced and your legs tightened around him as he worked you through it and he only pulled back once you melted into the mattress.

“Still with me?” He asked with a chuckle, his lips wet from you.

All you could do was hum as you gave him a small smile, “felt good.”

He returned your smile, “good, that’s how it should feel, darling.”

“And I can make you feel that good?” You asked hopefully.

“You can and I’ll show you another time. But right now…” he sat up and began to undo his trousers, “I need be inside you.” Your breath caught in your throat but you nodded, throbbing with need for him as you watched him undress and your eyes widened when you saw all of him before your eyes shot up to meet his. “We do not have to do anything if you are not comfortable with, okay?” He told you again as he leaned over you.

“How does it…” you whispered, looking up at him.

“How does it what? Use your words,” he said softly and brushed your hair back.

“Fit?” You asked with a squeak.

“It will, I promise,” he smiled. “And I will be gentle.”

“I trust you,” you nodded and ran your hands up his back, not that it helped to settle your nerves.

“If it’s too much I want you to tell me,” he said and kissed you softly. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you nodded. As unsure and nervous as you were, you needed him.

He kissed you again before he pulled back and stroked himself a few times before lined himself up with your entrance. “Are you ready?” He asked and waited for you to nod before he slowly pressed into you. Your eyes widened and you tensed as you dug your nails into his shoulders and winced at the stretch. Anthony paused and let you adjust to him, the last thing he wanted to do was hurt you. “Relax,” he whispered and gently nosed at your neck.

You breathed deeply as you tried to relax and a moment later you nodded, “I’m alright.”

“Are you sure?” He asked softly like he wasn’t dying to fully sink into you and fuck you. You were so warm and tight around him, you felt indescribably amazing.

“I’m sure,” you whispered and he nodded and pushed in more, letting you adjust little by little until you were fully wrapped around him and he bit his lip as he groaned at how amazing you felt. You squeezed him so tightly he struggled to stay still. Anthony moaned your name and dropped his head to your neck, desperately needing to move but knowing he couldn’t until you were alright.

You had never been so full before and your lips are parted in a silent gasp as you held onto him. “Anthony,” you breathed and arched into him before wrapping your legs around him to keep him pressed against you.

He took that as a sign to move and slowly started thrusting, being careful with his movements to not hurt you. Your gasp melted into a long moan as you fluttered around him and he knew he wasn’t going to last long, but he needed you to cum again before he could fill you up.

The more he moved, the better it felt and it wasn’t long before you were moaning loudly as you gripped his shoulders. “There we go, my God you feel amazing,” he moaned and fucked you deeply.

“Anthony, my God, Anthony,” you moaned and let your eyes close as you focused on the feeling of him. You could feel that building sensation again and he could read it in your body.

“I’m right here, darling,” he groaned and took your hands in his and pressed them up above your head. You threaded your fingers with his and squeezed his hands. You needed that release. His hips stuttered when you clenched around him before he took both your wrists in one hand so he could snake his free hand between your legs to rub your clit.

“Oh Anthony!” You basically shouted and clenched down on him harder. You were so close to that release and it only took a bit more before you came on his cock, your high more intense than the first one.

“That’s my girl,” he moaned as he watched you fall apart. “So good for me.” He fucked you through your high as his got closer and then he stilled in you as he came, filling you up with his seed. It was a new feeling but you liked it and you tightened your legs around his waist as you moaned and a moment later he collapsed against you as he breathed heavily. “My God, you’re amazing,” he said breathlessly.

You wrapped your arms around him, keeping him close as possible as you both caught your breath. “That… That felt amazing,” you told him.

He smiled and pushed himself up enough to look deep into your eyes, “I am so glad.”

You could definitely get used to this, you thought to yourself as you returned his smile before kissing him softly. “Husband,” you whispered when you broke the kiss.

“Wife,” he smiled back brightly.

You wanted nothing more than to just stay in that perfect bubble with him, but you couldn’t. It was late morning by the time you two were …finished and you both knew you had to face your father and the other Bridgertons and tell them you had wed.

You and Anthony tried to soak in the moment while you still could before you slowly pulled away from each other so you could both get cleaned up and dressed and once you were both looking respectable, you headed downstairs hand in hand.

“This is not going to go well,” you whispered to him.

“We’ll face it together,” he replied and squeezed your hand. “I will not let any harm come to you.”

“I know,” you replied, the corner of your lip twitching up. “But I do not want you to be harmed by my father.”

“If he harms me, I do not care. I only care about keeping you safe from harm,” he told you and he kissed your forehead before you walked into the lion’s den.

It was Benedict that noticed you two first and he raised an eyebrow but the corner of his lip twitched up and you squeezed Anthony’s hand harder.

Violet was second to notice and she stood immediately. “How are you feeling dear—” she trailed off as she saw you and Anthony holding hands and her breath caught in her throat when she saw her ring on your finger before she looked up at her son. “Anthony…” she said softly before quickly glancing at your father.

Your father glanced in your direction and as he stood up he noticed yours and Anthony’s hands linked but what stood out was the ring on your finger. “You didn’t,” he said, his voice very low.

You leaned closer to Anthony as you nodded, “we did.”

There was so much hatred in your father’s eyes as he looked at Anthony. “You went behind my back and against my blessing and you married and defiled my daughter!” His voice boomed.

“No, I respected her desires and allowed her to make her own choices unobstructed by you,” Anthony replied firmly, his eyes cold as he stared your father down.

“She is a woman, she doesn’t get to make her own choices,” your father said as he walked closer to Anthony. “Although, I suppose she did make the choice to become a harlot.”

Anthony let go of your hand to step in front of you and his eyes hardened. “How dare you question my wife’s, your own daughter’s, integrity. Apologize to her immediately,” he said, his voice hard.

“I do not need to. She is no longer my daughter. She is your problem from here on out,” you father said, your stomach twisting at how quickly he was able to dismiss you. Had he ever loved you?

“My wife is a blessing and I am thankful to have her,” Anthony corrected him. “Now remove yourself before I remove you.”

“Gladly,” you fathered sighed before he nodded to his footmen. “Pack my things. We are leaving.”

All you could do was stand there. You wished you could have told your father off for how he had treated you all these years, for how he made you feel inferior, but you didn’t, instead you pressed yourself closer to Anthony.

Anthony was still tense but he wrapped his arm around you and kissed your forehead before he murmured in your ear, “do not listen to a word he says.”

“I do not understand what I have done in my life for him to hate me so,” you muttered into his chest.

He tightened his grip on you as he took a deep breath. “I do not know,” he whispered. “But you do not deserve it.” He leaned back enough to cup your cheek and made you look up at him. “You are loved. I love you.”

You looked up at him with so much love and adoration. You were so lucky to have him. “I love you, too,” you whispered to him and he kissed the top of your head.

The room was tense for a long moment before Benedict cleared his throat and congratulated you two on the nuptials and the rest of his family followed suit. They were truly happy for you and glad to have you as part of the family.

You didn’t need your father’s approval or acceptance because the Bridgertons, were all the family you could need.

To no one’s surprise, you and Anthony welcomed your first child only a year later.

You gave birth at Aubrey Hall. Your labour was long and agonizing labour, and though it was improper for the Lord to be there when you were giving birth, Anthony was by your side. After the trauma of Hyacinth’s birth, Anthony refused to be anywhere else.

He kept brushing your hair back and squeezing your hand as your laboured and then finally you both heard the cry as your child was brought into the world.

“It’s a boy, My Lord,” the doctor said and a midwife was quick to clean your son off before handing him to Anthony.

Anthony had held most of his siblings as infants, but it was different holding his own child and his heart ached with love before he gently passed him to you. You cried happy tears as you snuggled your son close. “He’s beautiful,” you whispered and looked up at Anthony.

Anthony was still in shock and awe. He had a son; he was a father. He gently wrapped his arm around your shoulder and leaned in to look at your son with a small smile. “I am so proud of you,” he told you softly.

You leaned into him and smiled as you looked back at your son, “I love you both so much.”

“I love you more,” he whispered and gently traced the tip of his finger over your son’s cheek. You were right, he was absolutely beautiful. Perfect.

“I think we should name him Edmund,” you said after a long moment and looked at Anthony. “Edmund Anthony Bridgerton the Second.”

If he wasn’t already crying he certainly was now. His lip wobbled a little as he nodded. “It’s perfect,” he breathed.

“He is perfect,” you smiled softly and managed to push yourself up enough to kiss his forehead. Anthony melted at your touch before he kissed you softly, pouring his love for you into the kiss.

Your father did everything he could to keep Anthony away from you, but there was no pulling you two apart.

You were meant to be.

Fin.

#anthony bridgerton #anthony bridgerton imagine #anthony bridgerton x reader #Anthony Bridgerton smut #bridgerton #bridgerton imagine #bridgerton smut #bridgerton oneshot #anthony bridgerton oneshot #bridgerton fic #anthony bridgerton fic

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beann-e · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu! Characters reacting to their s/o Fighting for them

Also i’m taking request !! go put something in the box :4

Tendou

he would enjoy it so much like he’d have a full on conversation while your doing it. He’d even start hyping you up In the back because he knows that’s all it takes to fuel your fire.

Only for you to find out the person who was hitting on him wasn’t talking about him but was talking about another guy and tendou only made it seem like they were so he could piss you off because he finds it so hot when your upset

Your eyes went pointed to the scene in front of you when you walked down from the bleachers. Feet heavy on the ground as you tried to contain your anger.

How did this chick get down here faster than you and why the hell was she talking to your boyfriend once again faster than you ?

You steps slowed as you walked up to them hoping to hear a little bit of the conversation “ yeah I thought it was really hot and I just wanted to say wow up close and personal y’know “

Your eyes widened hot ?

what the hell did she think was hot ?

“ I was uh I was up in the stands and I was honestly a little bit intimidated to come down here and talk to anyone actually —in the first place “ she laughed clutching her bag a little tighter when your boyfriend licked his lips before his teeth came down to nibble on his bottom one lightly, eyes feigning innocence as he listened to her “ especially you so this is like a big milestone for me “

you watched as your boyfriend smiled softly “ yeah I get it — really i’d be the exact same way with a crush I wouldn’t know how to act or even how to talk to them i’ve actually been there before so “

good good you thought praising tendou in your head at the fact that he was trying to slowly bring up the fact that he had a s/o. clapping for him in your head for trying to let the girl in front of him down easily

your body darting to hide behind a group of teenagers when you saw your boyfriends eyes lift up from the girl and look around as if he was checking for someone he must have been wondering where you were. breathing out a sigh of relief that he turned to look over your way too slowly only missing you by a second

“ oh really I assumed that— “

“ no no your good i’m not saying it in that way “

your face dropped ‘in what way ? ‘

“ I understand the fear of talking to your crush but trust me “ he nodded his head towards the girl In front him before he took a sip of water and smiled down on her “ you’ve got no reason to be nervous i’m right her—“

“ hi “ you waved steps quick on the floor beneath you and voice loud to show your presence “ yes y— yes you do “ you laughed reaching your hand out to shake the girls own in front of you

“ i’m y/n — the s/o— of 3 years —is there ? is there anything wrong did something happen to where he needed an emergency check up or something ? “

the sarcasm in your voice making your boyfriend smirk to himself at the way you just jumped into the situation all to protect your relationship it made him feel secure, happy even

it made him in a way feel greedy

your head coming up to look at tendou as you snaked an arm around his waist like he’d done to you in similar situations. Your other one moving to place itself on his chest “ babe are you ok ? are you hurt ? how badly to call a stranger over here ? “

“ baby no nothing like that she just wanted to congratulate me“ he locked eyes with you the slight smirk he still wore ignored by you due to anger at the drama unfolding before you and his next statement. His words coming out soft and sweet though they were meant to encourage his evil agenda “ before you “

“i’m sorry I wasn’t down here to congratulate him on his win so he must have looked lonely “

you shook your head in sadness at the girl “ and open but “ you smiled “ no he’s not—I understand the confusion you must be going through right now but its just miscommunication from your classmates—which leads me to wonder—please tell me what’s your name ? i’ve never seen you before and I bet your not aware of who I am either so introductions could help both of us out here “

“ oh uh i’m niccolo” the girl shook her head softly and wearily as you pulled back quickly

“ mm niccolo— niccolo “ you spoke rubbing the same hand youd just shook niccolos with down your shirt causing your boyfriend to smile to himself and his eyebrows to raise at all the knowing looks from his teammates about the shit storm he’d just put into motion as he planted a small innocent kiss to your forehead while winking to his teammates behind you

“ never heard of it you must be a first year ? “ your boyfriends head shook slightly as he looked to the floor thinking about how that might have been a little bit rude considering she was just a young girl maybe 16 at most.

His mind rolling with thoughts of maybe cutting the game he was playing short because of her age only for him to side eye you and take a sip from his water bottle again ‘ nah they’ve got it ‘

“ oh y-yes i’m new here—i’ve taken the phrase first year a bit too literal “ she joked smile seeming to be forced her hands twitching in nervousness

“ mm — I never would’ve thought “ you spoke sarcastically. Almost every first year knew not to talk to tendou after a game not unless you were down there already.

The both of you had established that as soon as the game is over your the only person who gets to say congratulations to him first since he explained that it means more to him to know that you’ll always be there no matter what he does

no matter if he wins or loses he’ll get to walk off that court and the first thing he sees is the person he loves most with their hands out waiting for a hug. he’s told you that in the moment he wants to feel like your the only one watching because it’s a private game played for you because he believes your so lucky to get to see your smoking hot boyfriend do blocks.

“ oh thank you no ones ever told me that I look older before may I ask why you thin— “

“ because your dum— “

“ haha um “ tendou stretched before speaking again “ because your just really pretty for a first year “ your body went rigid you almost felt like you couldn’t feel anything not even the heat that was radiating off your body

“ aw thank you so much that means a lot y/n was it? “ she smiled genuinely before laughing “ tendous so nice i’m really glad I came down here first before y’know all the fangirls came down “

she shook her head “ y’know I actually got scared because I thought you were one — I was like ahhhh here comes one of those scary stalker girls “ she laughed “ tendou was telling me not to be afraid since he knew you but I was telling him to be careful when talking to people like you —- once again I thought you were a fan girl so I mean you can’t blame me right?”

Yeah she was screwed this had went too far he was too late

“ y/n “ his voice was warning but you waved him off listening to the girl in front of you her voice sounding so confident and honest believing in everything she was saying. Voice pouring through and mouth still moving almost as if she had no filter

she looked to her feet “I doubt any of them would even have a chance with tendou though because— “

your body roared as she explained her reasoning.

You were only feeling this angry at her words because not only did she call you a tendou fangirl but she explained that even if you were one you would have no chance with him even though that’s actually how you two started dating.

Then for her to turn around and rub it in your face how she got downstairs before you oh god you were gonna have a field day with this little twerp if you didn’t find a way to put her in her place respectfully

“ hey um tendou do you think me and my fellow fan girl here can have some alone time just a small chat “

“ oh wow i’ve never had one of those before “ she smiled as tendou stood still wondering if he’d done the right thing by encouraging all of this or if he should just drop it or maybe even sit down and enjoy it

looking down at you cautiously a slight smirk on his face thinking about your face when he would get the chance to you the truth of the situation but only for it to drop as the girl across from him stole his attention away from you causing him to perk up a bit honestly surprised that she spoke again

Was she suicidal or ?

“ I think he may not be leaving because he isn’t comfortable with you yet—he told me earlier that we could be best friends so , he may listen to me more “ she smiled “ tendou I wanna talk to um —y/n so could you maybe give us some time alone —“ her smiling wider almost as if happy to call him her friend —before speaking “ I wanted to help you out “

‘ holy shit she’s testing my patience’

tendous loud laugh ripped through the gym as he grabbed goshiki and turned the both of them around to walk off words heavy and holding meaning “ yeah I know em’ —I know em’ real well physically and mentally trust me your going to have a bestie number two soon enough “

you watched as your boyfriend went to sit on the bench talking softly with goshiki as he put his hands in his pants pockets not paying attention to you two anymore

“ so wha— “

“ look “ you smiled “ i’m gonna be real sweet about this so we can tie this up in a neat little bow “ you pointed towards tendou

“ ‘m not a fan anymore he’s my boyfriend — we’ve been dating for 3 years now ever since we were first years. I met him through a fan club because he saw the art I drew for their game posters and enjoyed it. I told him I liked how passionate he was about something and how he had his own thing and did it in his own unique way that worked for him and then boom we ended up getting closer—closer then need be sometimes “

you sighed as you moved to close the conversation out “ look just please — I understand your a first year you may not know and that’s ok but ; me and my boyfriend like for me to be the first one who gives him a congratulations at the end of a match he never talks to anyone except his team until I do it — he says it’s like reassurance tht he’s doing good he’s had some stuff happen in the past that just — he needs praise and reminders that he’s doing good with his sport and I supply that he doesn’t want it from anyone else and I don’t want anyone else to give it “

you looked to the girl with sympathy in your eyes hoping you didn’t hurt her feelings she really was just a young kid “ it’s ok to have a crush I had one we all do at a point in our lives but right now your hitting on someone in a secure relationship ok ? start asking first please just to be safe in your future years “

her eyes went wide as she moved to speak “ mm I guess I was wrong “

you shook your head “ wrong ? excuse me for not understanding but wrong how“

“ I uh I assumed you weren’t one of those fan girls and I was wrong I did not mean to get in between your weird obsession just please do not harm him or anything like you guys tend to do “

your body blazed eyes lit up in a hard stare at everyone who now turned to face you hearing the girls loud words

“ again with the fan shit “

“ that is what you guys are called I will not call you his s/o if he does not know you “

“ HES MY BOYFRIEND YOU ASSHOLE “

“ wh— “

“ I tried to be nice to you but your not accepting it it’s like you want me to scream at you “

“ yeah babe she totally does “ tendous smile spreading slowly across his face at the way your hips moved to work with your mouth in showing off your evident pissed off mood

“ I know “ you screamed “ she just wants to make this harder for me “

“ duh “ his tongue coming out to swipe across his bottom lip eyes falling down to your hands that were clenched so tightly in anger waving around widely your pissed off expression sending heat traveling across his body

“ you have a child’s crush on him and I keep telling you I don’t mind but I explained to you to just be respectful and then you go and disrespect me again“

“ they are very lenient when it comes to crushes on me “

“ thank you baby —I try not to be rude because I myself was once a fan in a club for the team so trust me I understand but everyone is usually respectful I don’t understand how you “

“ she’s just a first year babe you have to explain it to her more “ he smiled thinking up a new way to see how far you would go for him “ like in depth “

“ I DID “

“ no baby you gotta get rough with her “

you turned with your eyebrows furrowed “ like fight “

he smirked at you body shaking at the way you whimpered out the words but moved to put your hair up anyways yet, again putting him first and your cloudy anger ridden mind second

god you were so hot whenever you showed everyone you’d do anything for him “ fuck — yeah baby your doing the right thing —don’t think about it too much “

you shook your head softly as you battled through it in your head tendou always knew how to get a rise out of you and how to make you do what he wanted you to more so for fun.

It didn’t take much for you to listen to him especially when you couldn’t think clearly because he was the only person there who cared for you and anything he did you knew would only be for his own entertainment purposes he’d never have you do anything bad or that put your safety at risk.

when you were angry —and had someone hyping you up and adding fuel onto the fire it was only 10x worse and tendou knew this

“ here y/n baby—let’s take this outside I don’t want you to get hurt by fighting in here come on you can do it out there “

“ tendou you asshole quit encouraging this shit“ semi whispered

“ I do not understand what is going on —i find myself with a loss of knowledge in this situation but I do feel as though tendou is in the wrong it is only a gut feeling “

the girl in front of you trembled at ushijimas voice—before looking to goshiki who held wide eyes as he waved to the girl hesitantly her eyes darting away and back to him eyebrows coming together as she looked around the gym embarrassed “ but he — he didn’t say anything about you—I didn’t know he didnt tell me “

“ wh—what babe — liar I call liar she’s lying baby — pleas— ow “

your head finally clearing up as you listened to his team talk about how much of a prick he was you reaching out and grabbing the top of his ear and bringing it down to your height while he screamed out in pain “ BECAUSE HES AN ASSHOLE “

“ hey baby I’m sorry i’m sorry but that’s — thats “ his hair went down to cover his face as he looked at you “ thats not cool “

“ I — I didn’t know “

“ but I told you twice “

“ and I — I haven’t had the best experienc— “ her bottom lip trembled before she took off crying when she met the young boys eyes behind her.

Goshiki shaking softly eyes lit up in confusion before he shook his head and pulled himself away from the embarrassing situation to run after her your boyfriend moving to wrap his arms around your waist from the back “ your so hot “

“ but I “

“ you were wrong though so I see looks don’t always pair up with smarts “

“ huh “

“ she wasn’t hitting on me “

“ but she “

“ she has a crush on goshiki this is her first time attending a volley’ game and she accidentally came down the wrong way so it landed her down here faster than everyone else”

your body stiffened “ she only ended up talking to me because I was going into the hallway towards the locker rooms when she for some reason was coming down the opposite way crying to me about how she was lost “

“ then you — you two were talking abo— “

“ she’s a bit fragile —- and she was explaining it and I saw how we were the same because she’s had a hard past too so she’s a bit wary around others—and hates confrontation due to drama at ‘er old school and she doesn’t know much of the people here because she’s a first year also she doesn’t talk much which kinda threw me off when she started having full conversations with you and trying her best to connect with you“ he shrugged “ must’ve thought you were cool —wanted to be your friend or some shit”

he smiled proudly at the fact that you could make people other than himself feel that comfortable around you him peppering kisses all around your face “ she was telling me how she thought goshiki was hot and when I brought up that I was his amazingly beautiful senpai she just wanted me to introduce her to him — she said she’s afraid of people and fangirls because she hasn’t had the best experiences with them she explained one time in middle school she got a bento box thrown at her because a guy from the volleyball team said hi to her “

your body immediately dropped “ you knew her whole life story and then some and let me embarrass myself “

“ well honestly you both did you just a bit more than her “

oikawa

he would praise you so much the whole time. He has fangirls and he loves when you show him why your more important than them. he loves for you to stop him and put them in their place while showing him his own.

He knows it’s not right to flirt with other girls but the excitement and pure happiness he gets when he watches you fight for him with such passion similar to his own for volley he loves it

“ oikawa ~~” A small voice called out before tucking a strand of hair behind their ear “ can we maybe get some photos ? “

holy shit it’s like everyday at this point

“ baby can I ? “

“ just go “ his eyes darted to the group before he looked back at you “ really —swear i’ll be right behind you pretty boy “

He smiled before running off to the group grabbing the pen someone held out for him and writing all over the billions of notepads girls waved in front of his face.

You knew it looked wrong for him to have a s/o and still entertain other girls or guys for that matter but, you knew oikawa. You knew exactly how he felt about them it wasn’t that he was interested or liked them it was that he liked their comments

he liked the attention.

He was someone who needed constant praise to feel like he was doing his best. Hearing all the cheers , all of the shouts of his name, seeing the signs and people that would come to games specifically for him only made him feel like he was human like he was real and talented—appreciated

You would never take that away from him you could never, when you two started dating you explained to him you knew how important his fans were to him and as long as he kept a certain line that couldn’t be crossed— that he would always come back to you. Everything would be ok.

You slowly walked up behind him leaving space for people to have a hard time differentiating if you were apart of the crowd or with him but you were still close enough to hear the whispers of how hot he was and honestly he was.

He had the muscles—the beautifully glowing skin that others around you two dreamed of and to put a topping on the cake he was still sporting his ruffled hair from his earlier game. He was your dream man and you were lucky to even be able to stare at him behind closed doors or at least that’s what he told you whenever you walked into his room.

“ oikawa-san “

“hmm “ he spoke staring down on the girl that reached out to grab his arm as he was turning to leave

“ could I talk to you please “

his eyes darted to find yours locking on them when he finally found them. His mouth now moving to mouth a question as you shook your head lightly you’d give him five more minutes he deserved it and you wanted him to feel like he’d done a good job at his game today ,which he really did do, him only going back to the girl in front of you two

“ oh well I really wanna — i’m supposed to —“ he sighed out before he collected himself “ I want to take my s/o home before it gets too late I don’t want them walking alone at night “

“ oh s/o “ her voice dropped as he shook his head up and down “ correct of 2 years “

“ oh my um congratulations— to many more to many more with many more “ she rushed out quickly reaching in her backpack

“ thank you our anniver— “

“ could we get a picture “

he sighed before his smile spread only growing into a fake one lips going tight on his face “ yes of course just one i’d like to get on the ro— “

His breathing stopped as he felt the girl next to him lay her lips on his. The click of the camera making his eyes go wide as he shook. Oikawa to most wasnt one who was as submissive as he was with you. He was a bit more ‘ manly ‘ to other people but around you he always fell into submission especially when he knew he fucked up

His eyes slowly moved to find yours that flaming as you stared down the girl in front of him . You leaning against the wall only making him feel a shiver move down his spine.

Had he fucked up that badly that you weren’t even moving.

He kept looking between you and the girl in front of him eyes trying to convey his thoughts as they screamed

‘ look y/n she’s still talking to me — at this point she’s fucking with me not the other way around ‘

His mind went blank as you walked over your face made up into a stoic one voice coming out monotoned devoid of annoyance or any feeling at all “ your lips must be magnets or some shit“

“ excuse me “

“ oh no it’s just that Insee you’ve put your lips on my boyfriend“ your eyes creased at the girl before looking up and down in curiosity “ so I was just wondering if your big mouth was hiding a magnet or something — anything really to explain why you would put your dirty ass mouth on my rather pristine boyfriend “

Pristine ? his body went upright standing a bit taller ‘ hell yeah i’m pristine keep em coming babe ‘

“ are you not going to apologize ? “

“ I uh “ her eyes went up into sadness and fear as the courage that once swirled through her left upon seeing your emotionless stare. She’d just kissed your boyfriend and you looked like you were walking dogs or doing an everyday house chore “ i’m sor—sorry “

“ oh not to me “ you let out a small head nod over to oikawa “ I meant him “

“ oh oh um yes “ she coughed before she made eye contact with oikawa whos eyes were creasing as he stared down on the frail girl before him

“ i’m sorry “

“ no go on take your time “

“ i apologize that “

“ really I know it’s hard to apologize to someone as pristine as me“ your boyfriend moved to nudge you softly “ isn’t that right y/n“ he spoke as he tried and failed to wink down at you

“ uh yeah babe um “ you shook your head as your eyebrows furrowed before you returned to your earlier self “ wait what oikawa stop playing and fix this shit “

“ oh uh “ he straightened himself up at your words “ what were you suppose to be saying again “

“ oh I just wanted to um “ she turned to make eye contact with you before jumping a bit and turning away squeaking out her words “ i’m sorry for hitting on you knowing that you had a s/o “

“ oh ok that’s it? ” his body sulked as he looked to the floor

“ that’s it ? — you don’t care that she hit on you asshole“ you slapping his arm harshly before he whimpered at the contact

“ what’s wrong baby “ your hand came up to rub his back and arm while he pouted turning away from the both of you

“ I just wanted her to she was sorry “

“ ‘kawa she did we can go home now “

“ no she didn’t say it the way I wanted her to “

your hands fell from him as you let out a huff of air before turning to the girl in front of you and moving to whisper in her ear as she sat confused unmoving In her spot before smiling softly and speaking uncomfortably and regretting her decision to ask the male out

“ oikawa “ she coughed his eyes looking over at her while still holding up his dramatic show “ I just wanted to say i’m sorry for hitting on your s/o’s “

Her eyebrows furrowed before she looked to you who was mouthing the words and shaking her head in an ok motion “ pretty boy —“ he perked up at the words “I will never hit on someone of your elegantly pure , flawlessly clean , stature ever again “

Yes he made her embarrass herself by asking for more kind uplifting words more so to make himself feel better than for you. All the while he enjoyed the praise he received from not only the person he loved but the person he didn’t.

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3d-wifey · 3 years

Text

Temptation Sings

Pairing: Ryūnosuke Tanaka x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: Smut, fluff, senpai kink, p*rn watching, implied bisexual reader, excessive use of the word "babe" & some curse words

A/N: The senpai kink is sort of one-sided, but what kink isn't 💀 and the title is sort of based off a lyric from Super Freak by Rick James. Also, those are actual lines from a Hentai, but I fucking lost it half way through so I had to improvise. Anyway, this is over 3,000 words of straight dog water. Enjoy!

Synopsis: You ride Tanaka while watching hentai

"What kind of porn do you watch?"

"What?" Tanaka let out a quick bark of laughter before staring at you with wide eyes. His hand was frozen over the bowl of popcorn as he turned his full attention to you. The two of you had been dating for over a year now, yet, you've never had sex.

Sure, there had been some over the clothes stuff before. Some tops off heavy petting, some groping while making out, but it had never progressed past that. Not for a lack of trying, of course. Anytime you could find time to hang out alone, something would always interrupt you.

You weren't a virgin, but you didn't have much experience, so, naturally, you were more than a little nervous. And Tanaka, bless his soul, was pretty understanding. As long as you two could still make out and he could grab your ass, he seemed fine. But, he's still a teenage boy, no matter how respectful. He could only handle being blue balled so many times. And you wholeheartedly felt the same way.

This seemed like the best way to go about it. Establishing a common interest in what you both liked to get the ball rolling.

"Porn. I know you watch it, Ryuu. So...what kind?" You sat up on your side of the bed and leaned against the headboard, knowingly making him eye level with your breast. Nothing wrong with a little incentive.

"Okay, wow. You're serious. Um," he stuttered, eyes flickering over your chest and back to your eyes, before a blush settled flooded his cheeks, "You're just gonna laugh." He moved his gaze over to the movie playing on the laptop, avoiding eye contact. Was he embarrassed? He should know by now that you didn't judge.

You wouldn't be dating him if you did.

"I promise I won't laugh, baby. Look, I'll go first," you moved the bowl of popcorn off his lap and grabbed his hands to pull him up, "Pay attention."

"Wha–"

"There's Amateur, Lesbian," you ignored his questioning look and kept going, "Creampie, Fingering, Solo male and female, Public, and Taboo. That's all I can think of off the top of my head. You like any of that?"

He stared at you slack-jawed. Had you been too forward? You thought if you were honest about it, you both could be comfortable with each other. You watched in anticipation as he moved his gaze from you to the ceiling.

"Thank you, God," he whispered, almost on the verge of tears, "I must truly be blessed."

"Are you serious, Ryuu," you scoffed, hitting his arm to hide how relieved you really were, "You made me anxious for nothing!"

"That is so hot, babe," he grinned excitedly, moving to sit on his knees with his legs folded under him, "All that stuff sounds cool, and we're definitely gonna come back to that lesbian thing later, but I usually just watch...Hentai." He cleared his throat, scratching his cropped hair.

You pulled the laptop over to you and paused the movie playing. Pulling up the browser, you typed "Hentai" in the search bar, and hesitated for a second.

Hentai. Of course, it was hentai. You weren't surprised in the least that he got off to cartoon characters fucking. In fact, you expected it. You knew what you were getting into when you agreed to date him. You briefly wondered what kind he watched before it hit you.

Oh, yeah, you thought, he'd like that.

"What are you doing, babe?" He questioned. You paid his nervous laughter no mind as you queued up the perfect video. You were a genius.

"Are you okay with this, Kasuri?"

"I've been telling you that it's okay!"

You watched as the small girl pushed the boy on the ground and climbed on his hips to straddle him backward. To your complete surprise, you were actually kind of invested in the plot. Sure, some of the lines made you cringe and the ethics behind the sister trying to fuck her brother were a bit iffy, but, somehow, it was keeping you entertained.

The less than spectacular writing didn't seem to be affecting Ryuu any. With how much he jerked off to this kind of stuff, you figured he was probably used to it.

"I want you to take it...take me Senpai."

You felt Tanaka stiffen up beside you before quickly relaxing. Well, more like you felt him force himself to relax. You watched out of the corner of your eye as he subtly, or as subtle as Tanaka could be, adjusted himself in his sweats.

He was trying very hard to hide how much the video was affecting him; however, you always found Tanaka easy to read. The furrow of his brows, the twitch of his muscles, the restless tapping of his fingers along his thigh—all of it was effortlessly understood like the words of a well-loved book.

He was holding himself back for some reason that you couldn't find the effort in yourself to figure out, but he wasn't the only one affected.

"You have to tell me what you like. You have to teach me, senpai."

There was that stiffening again.

You placed your hand high on his tense thigh, completely ignoring the eyes burning into the side of your face. Unlike Ryuu, you were a fantastic actor. You decided you would wait for him to fully relax, or be as relaxed as any teenage boy could be while watching porn before you would strike.

You waited for the moment his leg softened under your hand and oddly enough it was at the point in the video where they showed a very detailed shot of the boy coming inside of the girl. He probably thought it was ending soon. Little did he know you were going in for the kill.

You cuddled further under his arm before you looked up at him with imploring eyes.

"Do you wanna do that...with me, senpai?"

It was just like any other kink, you rationalized. It was on par with the guys who were into being called 'Daddy' or 'Sir' or some other title. It didn't do anything for you, but if your magnificent hunk of a boyfriend got turned on by being called senpai, you were more than happy to go along with it.

"Well?" You prompted when he said nothing and gawked at you like a test he didn't study for.

"What did you call—is this—are we actually about to—" His wide eyes switched between you and the computer screen before deciding you were far more entertaining.

Instead of answering his stammering, you rose to your knees to pull the sundress over your head. You unhooked your bra and threw it off the bed with no regard for where it landed. It was a shame it wasn't one of your cuter ones, but you doubted Ryuu cared.

Your hands paused on the waistband of your panties when you realized he was frozen beside you, eyes flickering over your body like he didn't know where he should look.

"Am I gonna be the only one naked?" You would have thought he was on the court with how fast he jumped off the bed.

You watched from his bed as he struggled to get out of his clothes. It was adorable how excited he was, but he wasn't the only one. You've been waiting nearly thirteen months for this and you were practically vibrating out of your skin.

You were content to watch him almost bust his ass as he tried to get his sweats off when you remembered something.

"We don't need a condom. I'm on birth control." You started birth control years ago to handle your irregular periods, but it also came with the added benefit of Ryuu being able to cream you like a Twinkie.

He stared at you for a second with a blank face before closing his eyes with his hands clasped together...almost like he was praying? You heard him whisper something suspiciously along the lines of him being blessed before he practically bounded up to you like a hyper puppy

Probably not the best analogy to be made in your current situation, but it was true! He was bouncing on the balls of his feet and shaking his hands out like he always did before a match. You briefly wondered if he ever did this before. He never told you if he got this far with any of his exes and you never asked.

At that moment, you decided it didn't matter what he did before because you would be the best he ever had.

Your hands shot forward to pull his underwear down before pausing.

"Is... Is this okay?" You asked, hands hovering over his boxer briefs. For the first time during the entire affair, you were hesitant. What if you were pushing too fast? You hadn't exactly asked anything. You just gave out demands and he followed. You wouldn't be able to live with yourself if you ended up pressuring him into this.

"I—," he stopped, staring down at you with wide eyes and for a split second, your heart stopped, "Are you kidding, babe? God, yes, it's okay!"

You honest to God giggled when you pulled him onto the bed with you and clamored onto his lap, like the stereotypical school girl. You calmed yourself down enough to just look at him. The way he gazed at you with a year's worth of pent-up desire made slick dampen the seat of your panties.

"You're just—you're beautiful. God, I love you so so much," the sincerity in his voice was amplified by the goofy grin he gazed up at you with and the blush on the apples of his tan cheeks, "you know that, right?"

One look at Ryuu and even a blind man could see how much he loved you. It was a good thing his feelings were mutual or it'd be pretty embarrassing.

"I love you too, idiot," your hand settled on the back of his close-cropped head to pull him into a kiss. And in typical Tanaka fashion, he kissed you like you were the only thing keeping him alive. He kissed like his only goal was to leave you as breathless as you made him. And he always succeeded.

"Now," you took a deep breath, "are you gonna fuck me, senpai?"

The groan he let out against your lips was more than enough of an answer for you.

You rushed to pull your panties off, thanking whoever was watching over you that it wasn't one with holes or bleach stains on it.

You reached to pull him out of his boxers, but he beat you to it. It gave you pause how he whipped it out like it was nothing to gawk at.

A little over half the length of your forearm, his dick was nothing to scoff at. He was the same width as your wrist with a thick vein running up the underside of his shaft.

Not the first dick you've seen but by far the biggest. Your heart rate picked up as you thought of the logistics of how he'd even fit inside you. You'd probably have trouble with just the tip.

You pulled the foreskin back to see precum already collecting at the angry red head. He jerked when you took the heavy weight of his dick into your hand and you could barely wrap your fingers around him. You didn't think he'd be so sensitive but you called yourself thankful for it. Easier to tease.

You rubbed his tip against the opening of your pussy and pulled away, strings of slick still connecting you. You repeated the action a few times before taking pity on your poor boyfriend. You used his quiet moans as motivation as you pushed his head past your tight hole.

You hissed at the unexpected stretch. The burn veering on the side of uncomfortable, but not painful. You couldn't tell if it was because of how long it had been since the last time you had sex with anyone or if it was because of the sheer size of him.

You decided it was the latter as you tried to take more of him.

"Here," you grabbed one of his thumbs and rubbed it over your clit in quick circles. The callused pad pleasurably rough against the slick covered bud. Luckily, he caught on quickly and kept up the pace as you tried to sink further down. The ache in your walls added to the pleasure on your clit.

You sighed once you finally reached the base. You hadn't expected this much effort would go into just taking him.

He was panting hard, eyes closed and struggling to hold still enough to let you adjust.

"Okay," you breathed, "okay." You slowly rose to your knees and peeked at his dick as it came out coated with your slick, before driving yourself back down with a moan. You settled your hands on his shoulders as you picked up a rhythm.

"You're such a badass, babe," he praised and you would have laughed if him shoving himself into you, thrust for thrust, didn't fuck a series of moans out of you.

You peppered quick kisses against his lips as you drove yourself up and down. You ran the tip of your tongue along his bottom lip before nipping at it. He eagerly took the hint and opened his mouth to you. You swallowed his groans as your hand slid up to the front of his neck and squeezed, tongues pressing together in an openmouthed kiss.

When you pulled away, his eyes flickered between your bouncing breasts, where his dick split you open, and your lidded eyes.

"I've dreamed of this for so long," you moaned as his hand resumed its motion on your sensitive clit. How he was able to piece together coherent sentences was beyond you, "Wanted you so bad, baby. So. Bad."

The headboard slammed into the wall as you sped up your pace. You were lucky you two were the only ones in the house.

"That's right, babe. Bounce on Senpai's dick. Fuck," he cursed, voice cracking when you swiveled your hips, "You like that, don't you? My pretty girl." You didn't want to admit it, but the senpai thing was really doing it for you. Not the actual word, but the sheer affect it had on him.

You can't say you were surprised by how talkative he was, his dirty words dripping over your overheating body like rich syrup. If you knew watching porn would lead to this, you would have done it ages ago.

His big hands used his grip on your ass to rock you back and forth at a faster pace. You relaxed your legs and let him take the lead, pulling his head towards your chest. The animated girl's moans on the computer combined with Tanaka's and created a harmony that pushed you closer to your release.

You moaned freely into his neck as the change of positions dragged your swollen clit over his pelvis with every buck of your hips. Sweaty bodies pushing and pulling against each other in a motion that was more grinding than riding.

Wet and sticky slaps echoed around the room, punctuated by the meat of your ass meeting his wet thighs. Thighs made wet by your juices collecting at the base of his cock.

Your release bubbled low in your stomach, steadily being pushed higher with every one of Tanaka's sloppy thrusts. It pulled heavily from below your naval, expanding to the point where you felt like you could burst. You weren't a virgin—this wasn't your first time, but, God, it felt like it was. And it might as well be your first time with how sensitive he made you.

You were sweaty and you were sore and so, so completely overwhelmed. But your mind was wonderfully cloudy with the pleasurable haze of an incoming orgasm and it made it hard to care.

"You close, babe?" You whimpered out a weak yes as his lips trailed from your jawline down to your damp neck before sucking on the skin.

"Can feel you squeezing me. So damn tight." He panted against your heaving breasts.

You knew it was coming, but knowing and feeling were too different things. Your thighs burned with fatigue, but you couldn't stop. You were so close and the humid air blurred out everything that wasn't Ryuu's cock plunging against that spongy patch on your wall and you didn't want it to end.

He couldn't take his eyes off of you as you used him for your pleasure. Head thrown back and skin gleaming with sweat.

"Shit, I'm-" he grunted at the tightening grip your walls had on him, just begging him to cum, "Fuck, 'M not gonna last, babe." His hips twitched uncontrollably as he rammed into you.

The knot in your stomach built and built before suddenly loosening, your vision blanking completely. Not that you could tell with how far back your eyes rolled. Hands shooting forward to desperately cling onto him as you trembled. Nails digging into his tense biceps, a mantra of his name falling from your lips like a prayer. Your thighs shook as you rode yourself past the sensitivity.

And that's what does it for him, your impossibly tight heat clamping down on him. Tender balls pulled taut against his body as the white ring of cum coating his cock grew with every one of your thrusts down.

The only sound that escaped him was your name broken by his breathy moans.

Once you came back around, you're still dazed with cooling sweat gathering on both of your bodies. The air is still clammy and you were sore from your neck to your thighs but it didn't stop you from looping your arms around Ryuu's neck.

He gathered you into his warm chest, heavy arms locked around your waist.

"So," he huffed, "lesbian porn, huh?"

"Shut up, Ryuu."

#haikyū!!#haikyuu #tanaka x y/n #ryuu tanaka #ryūnosuke tanaka #haikyuu!!#haikyuu smut #tanaka ryunosuke x reader #tanaka smut

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myelocin · 3 years

Text

Postcards From: Kanazawa | Tsukishima Kei

Synopsis: The fear that comes with love is the realization that it isn't always just light. Love, rediscovered as both the fear and the drive that depicts the push and pull of whether it's worth it to say "I do," if the unknown is what's to come beyond the vow. In which it's a week until the wedding, and the both of you return to Kanazawa--to day one--as strangers.

Characters: Tsukishima Kei

Genre/Tags: Engagement!AU, Hurt/Comfort, Angst with Happy Ending | WC: 10,200+

A/N: this is a piece commed by @tsukishumai ;w; tq for trusting me w u and ur bb boi ily to the moon n back

playlist

commissions | ko-fi

The illusion of the soul is the false belief that love must always—always—be just light.

The truth is, it’s not. Love is many things. Primarily, love begins from desire. Then, that desire seeps into a drive that pushes you to keep wanting. Then finally, when it’s seeped in through the skin deep enough, love pools in the soul.

Love is bound to be raw at the very core. A desire. To say, “I want you,” and think it holds as much credibility as “I love you.” To look at what you know is only the tendrils of something at the very most, and trick yourself into thinking that it’s enough. A beating heart—bloody red. The line just barely hanging in-between what’s selfish and selfless, before it ultimately sways and becomes selfish sometimes.

Sometimes, being right now, Tsukishima thinks.

Sandwiched in-between you to the left, and Yamaguchi to his right, he finds his eyes flickering towards the clock a lot more often than he would have liked. Akaashi, who sat across from his seat on the table, was the first to catch on.

He quirked a brow, presumably in question earlier, and mouthed the question if he was in a rush. Tsukishima’s never been known for having too many words, but because Akaashi pauses and insists to relieve his question with an answer, he shrugs, waving him off and mouthing back that he’s alright.

“So,” Bokuto starts, his voice already slipping into somewhat of a slur. “How’s it feel to be the first to pop the question?”

You laugh, finding amusement in the man’s enthusiasm. Turning to Tsukishima, you sit and wait, expectant of a reaction.

In response, he just shrugs, but a smile breaks through and redefines the nonchalance of his expression anyway. Raising the glass to his lips, he takes a quick sip before answering smugly, “It’s nice to finally settle down. You should try it sometimes.”

Bokuto waves him off, cheeks flushed and eyes already drooping from the inebriation. “Nah,” he slurs, shaking his head. The exaggeration warrants a quick laugh from Sugawara, who sits on the other side, nursing his own drink. Continuing, Bokuto huffs and takes a slight pause before he connects the last of what he says with, “—getting married is nice and all, but I don’t know, man,” he laughs. “Just feels like I’ll end up hitting a fucking blank space after I do or whatever. Not my vibe.”

Visibly, Tsukishima shifts a little, the smile on his face maintained but the lighthearted energy that earlier fueled it just slightly more drained now.

From the corner of your eye, you notice it. Though, Akaashi’s the one who gives him a pointed stare, to which the former simply ignores.

“But—“ Bokuto continues, as if trying to remedy the cracked part of the atmosphere that isn’t even visible in the first place—“If that’s your thing, then I’m obviously not going to judge you for that.”

Tsukishima responds by his silence. Bokuto, with his head still warped around the heavy state of his inebriation, doesn’t do so much other than sip a little more of his barely filled glass of beer, Tsukishima’s apathetic expression just a blur in his eyes now.

“You seem happy, though,” Bokuto notes, then raises his glass towards you.

Blinking at being the sudden subject of his interest, you raise your own glass of water. The ice inside shifts, clinking against the sides of the glass, and slowly, Tsukishima watches. There’s familiarity in the way it moves down: trickling slow like the patience inside him that’s suddenly running by the clock. His palms just barely gripping the utensils, clammy. While his head, still whirs at Bokuto’s halfhearted words.

It’s halfhearted, he reminds himself.

The thought of hitting a plateau after “I do,” in a way is terrifying.

But he is happy, right?

The way his palms respond solely through tensing suddenly spikes the fear that maybe his ring will slip. So he looks at you, trying to find an anchor to keep the love he pushes to stay intertwined with his truth afloat as he responds, “Of course I am. I’m happy.”

You look back at him, eye to eye, though you find something waver just for a split second— wondering if there’s credibility in the saying that gold will always deliver truth.

The rest of the night flows easy.

Almost naturally, he’s quick to wave off Bokuto’s invite for more drinks at the bar just down the street, tugging your interlaced hands towards the parking lot as soon as the group found its way to the exit.

“You know he probably just wanted more company,” you laugh. Thirty minutes after making it back home, instead of jumping straight into the shower and getting ready for the night routine, you instead take out the suitcase and take your place, seated on the floor in the living room.

“We needed to pack,” you hear him respond, his voice a little distant from the bedroom down the hall.

You shrug. “Yeah, but we could have made time.”

“Sometimes we can’t just make things, if we don’t have any to make it with in the first place,” he sighs.

You chuckle. Perhaps it’s just one of those nights again. In the ten years you’ve known Tsukishima Kei, you found that he had a tendency to become a multitude of things.

A stranger, at the start, because that’s where every connection begins. The neighbor who lived with his grandfather across the street from your childhood home. Kanazawa was a long way from Sendai, but before his parents had whisked him off to Miyagi some years later, he had been the friend that oftentimes spent his afternoons with you.

Strawberry cake and tiny sips of boxed juice from the convenient store down the street, and not much conversation exchanged between the both of you. He’d tell you about the things on his grandfather’s old encyclopedia, and you’d listen with rapt attention, finding it nice how he seemed to carry a little bit of the stars the more his eyes gleamed. He just talked about dinosaurs, you remember. At ten, Tsukishima had always been a wonderer.

Then he moved.

From the friend who told you stories and shared his juice boxes with you under that tree, to the occasional email that would pop up on your phone, when you were in highschool and weaving your way in and out of pathways and dead-ends. Miyagi was a little like Kanazawa, he said. There was a lot of quiet in the two cities. His email would come once a week, then twice when you reckon he felt a little lonely.

You’d reply with the same kind of enthusiasm as he had established, though you still couldn’t deny the fact that the notification with his name on it never failed to have you smiling—at least just a little bit. At fifteen, Tsukishima was far from a stranger, but he was also falling just a little short in making it to the halfway mark of being a friend too.

The once-a-week emails were welcome, none the less. It stayed like that, until once a week turned into twice. Though most were just the customary how-are-yous and obligatory holiday greetings once the seasons came and went, one year it turned into emails about the little nothings.

‘I had strawberry cake today,’ it once read. ‘The one we used to share tasted sweeter.’

‘I joined the volleyball team.’

‘Winter here is a little colder. I remember your puffy green jacket.’

‘I don’t know if you want to know…or if I should tell you...but our team won, and we’re going to nationals.’

Somehow, you were managed to be convinced by one of your friends that same week to travel with your own highschool’s volleyball team to assist in the preparation for nationals in Tokyo. It was just a coincidence, you used to reason. You were there, and so was he. There was a hundred other courts his team could have played at, and your priority was assisting your own team in what they needed.

But still, you couldn’t help but wave back and cheer the loudest from your stands when he perfected the block and scored the winning point for the first set.

It was then, where you realized that perhaps Tsukishima Kei wouldn’t just be a stranger.

Kanazawa to Miyagi, but somehow Tokyo became the in-between. Childhood friends to the sort-of friends from the other ends of the country sharing a few scattered memories in slices of strawberry shortcake and random dinosaur trivia from an old man’s outdated encyclopedia.

He was the first to approach you after that match. A hand held out to shake, perhaps to commemorate the evident shift between strangers to friends—but it was nice.

Because after that, friends turned into something more.

Maybe Tokyo really was the middle ground. After you graduated and moved out of your respective cities, Tokyo became the third place of hello.

Then things just slipped into place. He was here, and so were you. He had plans to stay, and you just signed the contract that bound you to the city for the next two and a half years. The apartment right down the hall from yours was recently vacated, and he was looking for a place to stay.

His new work place, coincidentally enough, was just a stop away from the train station closest to your place.

You had always doubted the presence of serendipity and everything that had to dictate with the celestial control of fate, but the ease that came with the relief of him signing the lease the very next week almost seemed to validate what had been just a farfetched something.

From strangers, to friends, to lovers, then to this:

Ten years later, a ring on your finger, and an I do, bound to be said just a little over seven days from now.

Tokyo was kind to the both of you. His mother’s close enough to visit on the weekends, while Kanazawa was just a shinkansen away from Tokyo station. A new apartment with enough space for two, plus maybe an extra, and a bakery right down the street with the best strawberry shortcake made fresh every day.

The wedding’s just a week away. His grandfather, still living in Kanazawa was meant to travel with Akiteru to Tokyo last week, but because plans changed, the both of you were instead tasked with going there yourselves to travel with him. While Tsukishima hesitated, you didn’t. Yes was easy to say in a situation like this. Though your parents had moved to Tokyo some years ago, you were aware that his grandfather didn’t.

The house across the street was still his, while the one you grew up in just now became a summer home your family would frequent to when Tokyo became too swarmed with tourists.

You look at the half-filled contents of the suit case on the floor in front of you. The right side’s meant to hold your clothes, while the left was left bare for Tsukishima’s. You turn and look at him.

“You can just grab the stuff you need me to bring for you and I’ll fold it in. We should probably catch the first train tomorrow if we wanna get there before sundown.”

What comes as a reply is only prolonged silence.

You let what he started stay for a little, but because you had never been the type to be fond in gouging out answers from the blank spaces, you sigh, and break the impending silence before it could get a chance to even settle. “You’re quiet again, Kei.”

When he makes it to the living room, instead of coming back out with a stack of clothes, he stands by the wall with his hands in his pocket. His eyes shift from wall to wall, but skip over you.

Knowing that you’ll just prompt another conversation again the more he keeps his silence, he sighs, swallowing the hesitation and clinging onto the bits of courage that floats by him in the moment. Grasping at the very tips of it, he forces the words out of his mouth. “Are you really coming with me?”

You raise a brow. “Back to Kanazawa? Of course. I’m from there too, you know. Plus I haven’t seen Grandpa in a while.”

He shifts his gaze to the side, thankful for the blur that came with forgetting to slip on his glasses. He’s always had a tendency to give in the moment he looks at you, so the vagueness in the blur was a welcome change. “It’s just for a week,” he mutters. “I think I’ll handle the trip just fine.”

“Plus,” he adds, the hike in the tone of his voice giving away his panic. “—I heard there was a problem with the florists? Maybe one of us needs to go in and fix it ourselves just in case.”

In the ten years you’ve known him, you’ve always considered it a given that you’ve well perceived him by now. In front of you, he’s stammering. While Tsukishima has never been the face to poise and perfection—because at the end of the day he still is just a boy—you knew he only stammered when he was nervous.

Perhaps trying to manipulate the situation through a wordless exchange was his way of doing so. In your head, you chuckle. Tsukishima Kei is many things, and is witty when it counts—but he could never be blunt when it came to the things he was unsure of.

You try to gouge out his truth. Speaking straight to the point, you let him know that there’s no purpose in trying to skirt around. You turn to him, his sweater half folded on your lap. “You know I could have believed what you just said, but,” you pause, giving him a pointed look, “—you’re not even looking at me.”

“Is this about what Bokuto said earlier?”

The way he shifts his weight from one foot to the other awkwardly, confirms your suspicions that that it is about that, before he can muster up the courage to even say it. “Tell me,” you initiate. You’ve never been afraid to speak what needs to be said. “What’s got you so afraid?”

Once more, he hopes for the silence to speak for him. And like before—it doesn’t. Silence was never meant to fill in the blanks. What it did, rather, is add three seconds more on the clock that’s ticking regardless. Tsukishima bets on a timed clock to speak for him, and because you’ve never been the type to shrink at the presence of raw truth, you huff and poke into what obviously hits for him just a little deeper.

“You’re afraid we’ll hit a blank space after we get married, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t look away, but little by little, his body language starts slipping bits and pieces of the truth you’ve already long sensed. “I think I just need to think this through.”

“What?” you scoff. “You planned to go to Kanazawa by yourself for a week to what? Soul search? To decide if you even wanna marry me?”

“I’m sor—“

“That’s what you’re not supposed to say,” you interrupt him. “You don’t say you’re sorry for how you’re feeling, because you’re allowed to feel it how it is, but shit, Kei,” you exhale, pausing to suck in a quick breath. “You couldn’t have just said this earlier?”

He looks away again, the guilt evident on his features. “You’re mad.”

“Do you blame me?”

This time, he turns to you. “No,” he murmurs. “I don’t, but I’m gonna be blunt here—“

“—first time—“

He gives you a pointed look, but in the moment, you don’t really have much in you to care too much.

“I think I need space to clear my head.”

“Sounds like you’re contemplating on whether you wanna stay with me or not,” you respond. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel about that.”

Tsukishima’s steady, this time. “Of course I wanna stay with you.”

“But,” you counter. “You aren’t sure if you want to marry me.”

He looks away. “What if—we hit a plateau after.”

“That’s still not an excuse to back out before we even try, Kei,” comes your reasoning.

“You’re right,” he sighs. “It’s not.”

Then it’s you, who shrugs this time, giving in a little and throwing him what you hope he doesn’t see as a lifeline. There’s no comfort found in knowing that an out is a means of mercy when it comes to love. Why should there even be an out?

You settle for just cracking the door open instead. Though it was never locked, the fact that it remained close must have been understood differently by him.

“Let’s go back to Kanazawa separately, then,” you propose. The open suitcase in front of you still has the right half filled with his half folded clothes, so you reach in, taking it out one by one. “You stay with your grandfather and I’ll stay at my parent’s house.”

Tsukishima raises a concern. “He’ll wonder why we aren’t staying together.”

In response, you shrug. “Just make something up then.”

“Is this just a passive aggressive way to say you’re mad at me?”

You scoff. “When have I ever been passive aggressive, Kei? I’ve said shit as it is since day one.”

He flinches, maybe because of what you said or the tone of the deliverance, but either way, you decide you can’t give much of a shit. It’s a given that you’re angry, but because being hurt just paves the path to silence more than lashing out, it’s not much of a surprise that you probably look deflated in front of him.

“What I’m saying is,” you explain. “Let’s go back to Kanazawa as strangers. Do what you gotta do, however you’ve gotta do it to get your head sorted out, and then we’ll talk. I’m not dancing around in circles with you on this. Either we get married next week, or we don’t.”

He panics. “I don’t want to lose you—“

“You’re already talking like you’ve decided that you won’t be at the other end of that aisle, Kei.”

Words feel lacking all of a sudden, so you pause. The absence of the split second brevity has Tsukishima standing still, his breath held, throat dry.

But like always, clarity seems to weave its way through the cracks in the room and find you first. “Yes or no isn’t easy to decide between,” you finally mutter. Eyes to the half folded sweaters you meant to tuck into the other half of the suitcase, you realize that you’ll need to switch to a smaller trolley now because you won’t be needing this much space anyway. “I don’t know what I should tell you, because I don’t know that we’d be having a possible fallout a week before the wedding. But at the same time—I don’t want to say you’re despicable for feeling like that, Kei. It just—“

“—fucking sucks,” you sigh.

“If you feel like you need a week to figure whatever this shit is, then okay,” you nod. “Okay. Let’s be strangers for a week and by the time we’re back in Tokyo, you give me a yes or no and be fucking blunt with it.”

Later that night when you turn your back against him and face the wall, his whisper breaks through the quiet. “Why are you still patient with me about this? You could have just left me.”

You shift, laying on your back and sighing to the makeshift glow in the dark stars stuck to the ceiling of your room. “Because I love you,” you sigh. “Loving someone just means you have to exhaust every other option before even thinking of throwing in the towel.”

He sleeps that night, feeling heavy.

He woke up later that morning, feeling the same too.

In a sense, things admittedly started weird. You woke up before he did this time, when he usually would be the one trying to be quiet when he slipped out of bed. Even though early mornings had never been a thing for the both of you, there was still something unpleasant in waking up to an empty bed.

The sheets on your side were done, and your phone that usually would be pinging with email notifications by now wasn’t there.

It’s odd, he thinks. While he agreed to be strangers for a week, the walk to the train station was the same. Silence was normal, but the five extra inches that added to the distance between the both of you wasn’t. You nodded his way when he pointed at the shinkansen’s direction, and wordlessly would hand him his usual brew when you stopped at the coffee shop just before going in.

Seated beside you in the train, he tries to ignore the urge to poke you on the side and make conversation. Words have always come easy when it came to moments with you, he noticed.

Tsukishima’s aware that he’s always been dubbed as the kind of person who never preferred to say too much, and while that was true—to an extent—he realizes that there is some truth to the saying that silence kills.

You’re seated beside him on the train, eyes to your phone, and earbuds in place. He resorts to just staring at you through his peripherals, caught in between wanting to satiate the want to talk to you by breaking the silence, or keeping it as is.

This is where fear grips him a little tighter. The deal was, as you had pointed out just last night, that the both of you would move through the week pretending to be strangers again. You’d stay on your side of the street, while he stayed in his.

It’s a given that his grandfather’s bound to ask about you, and so in the event that it does happen, you would just spend a few hours with them and pretend like everything was fine.

You made it clear that you’d try to exhaust all the options before resorting to that, though. And it’s easy, he thinks, doing so. It doesn’t take much to fake a phone call from work or a last minute meeting with an old friend that wouldn’t be able to make it to the city for the supposed wedding.

The lines were drawn, and the outline of what was to be expected in the next week was made clear.

He thinks of what you said before you slept. Love, as that one drive that has you exhausting all your options before even thinking of quitting. It’s fair, he thinks. You’ve always been the rational thinker in the relationship.

But then again, he doesn’t doubt your hurt either. A week was lengthy, he realizes, and to act as strangers again just a week before the wedding was a different kind of test when it came to your patience.

Still, he owes you truth.

You’ve always told him to lay things bare, and even though what’s bare is ugly, because love always pushes to try—he stays, doing just that.

Undoubtedly, this is a jump. There’s no question in the fact that the possibility of reaching the peak and coming face to face with a plateau scares him. But still, his thoughts counter, to face a drop that doesn’t guarantee a landing somehow terrifies him even more.

The sound of your phone vibrating snaps him out of his thoughts. Before you answer it, he snags a look of the name written on the screen—Akiteru’s.

Tsukishima sighs, shooting you a cautious stare as you pick up the phone and turn to him.

The tone of your voice is easy, though you look at him, unbothered. “Hey,” you answer. “Just got in the train, so Kei should be calling you in about three hours when we’re there.”

In comes a pause, before you chuckle a little. Unconsciously, Tsukishima scooches in, curious. But before he could get a chance to lean in too close, you pull away a little, looking at him curiously, an eyebrow raised. “I meant to tell you,” he hears you say, and as you look at him, he chooses to hold your stare.

“Kei and I will be staying separately for the week.”

Beside you, he shifts, fighting the urge to turn away and face forward.

Assuming that your flinch afterwards was only a response to what he’s only certain is Akiteru’s sudden outburst, the prior nervousness of his stare shifts into concern. Understanding the are-you-okay that he mouths, you wave him off. “We’re fine,” you laugh. “I just miss staying at the house that’s all, and I’m pretty sure Kei wants to spend quality time with his grandfather.”

You stay silent after that, which truth be told, doesn’t exactly help with his nerves.

“He’s right next to me,” you add. “We’re fine, I swear. Just wanna enjoy Kanazawa in different ways that’s all.”

To put it bluntly, the first day is awkward.

His grandfather’s waiting from outside the gate the second you make it to that familiar street. Nothing much has changed, the two of you notice. The gate’s rusted a little by the edges, and the door’s still got the same chip on the left side he always said he’d take a look at.

“Heard they were cutting down that tree,” his grandfather says, when it’s a little over three hours later and you’re all seated at a local restaurant for dinner. His old friend owned the place, he explained. Low lights, home cooked meals, and a family run business you vaguely remember your father talking about when you were young.

Tsukishima pauses, eyebrows rising in question. “What do you mean that tree?”

“The one you used to run off to,” he laughs.

Elbowing him, you nod towards his grandfather before pointing out, “We met by that tree, you know.”

His grandfather’s quick to responding, laughing at Tsukishima’s perplexed expression. “Seems like your grandfather’s memory is doing better these days than you, boy.”

You suppose that at the end of the day, it shouldn’t have been a big deal that he forgot. You’ve never been one to dwell too deep within the symbolic little nothings that’s bound to come with life. Rationally speaking, maybe you’re just a little miffed because of what he said the night before. And maybe that’s the reason why you’re taking this a little harsher than you would have on a normal day.

But strangers, you remember. Strangers wouldn’t care if the other forgot.

So with that, you shrug. You take another spoonful of the food in front of you and shift your body just slightly to the left—to which Tsukishima took noticed—and leaned forward. Without even saying much, his grandfather already has his attention on you, the smile on his face kind.

He’s always been kind, you remember. With a smile, you choose to keep the peace in the room at bay, willing yourself to ignore Tsukishima’s stare boring holes into the side of your head from beside you.

“Now that I think about it, I don’t remember a lot of people stop by that tree,” you comment, as you take a step into nostalgia.

His grandfather shrugs, absentmindedly nodding his head as he mulls over your word through a spoonful of broth. “It was in the middle of a residential area. Bound to get taken down if you ask me. People nowadays need a place to park.”

This time, you really feel his stare beside you almost intensify. Truth is, you can make sense of what you know he only fears. The point in life was to brave through the unfamiliar to establish a consistency in familiar grounds. To continuously rise from day one, only to hit the peak and possibly come face to face with a plateau instead of something greater than even the height of all highs—you admit that it’s terrifying.

The plateau, that perhaps works sort of like that tree.

It’s been there, so here it still is.

You’ve both been at that tree—at the start—so here you both still are. Side by side back in Kanazawa, sharing a meal like I do, isn’t hanging on the line.

His grandfather’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts. “You’re not wearing your ring.”

Tsukishima’s voice is quick to cut into the conversation, his voice smooth. “She just doesn’t wanna lose it.”

You nod along to his lie, undecided with how to feel in regards to how smooth he seemed to have delivered his lie.

“You know, now that I think about it, it’s good that they’re cutting down that tree.”

Tsukishima speaks his mind this time. “Last week, you said you were looking forward to coming back home so you could visit that tree again.”

You don’t look at him when you answer. “I know, but your grandfather has a point. When things change, what else can you do but get rid of it?”

“Oh nothing’s changed,” he laughs across you. “Even before the two of you were born, people would always talk about how it’s just there when the space could have been used for parking.”

“Then why put off cutting it down this long?”

“Who knows,” he laughs. There’s an unfound wisdom in his eyes that read through your soul when he looks at you. “Maybe cutting down what people already see as a permanent fixture will do more harm than good in the long run.”

“Even if it doesn’t contribute anything?”

Tsukishima thinks of his fear, then of the plateau.

Through the rim of the glass, he keeps a steady eye on his grandfather, breath held as the anticipation for his words begin to really settle.

“People these days just see what’s the most obvious from the surface and consider it as the only fault then run with it. Maybe it’s not the tree,” he laughs. “Maybe it’s just the people. They want convenience so they cut off everything around them instead of adjusting to it.”

The food tastes bland in his mouth, suddenly.

“Goes to show how selfish people can get sometimes,” his grandfather finishes, as an afterthought. “A shame, really. That old tree’s done nothing but give people shade.”

At the end of the day, you really had to give his grandfather a lot more credit than what was due.

The second and third day was awkward. Even though you tried to stay inside for most of your day, venturing outside and meeting up with old friends was inevitable. And really, you should have remembered that he often started his day with a couple laps walked around the block.

On day two, he hinted that he could sense something was off. Tsukishima had been a lot more silent lately, he pointed out. First, as just a passing comment, then by the third time he’d bring it up and wouldn’t get too much of a response out of you, there came more emphasis to what he says.

He passed by the tree every time you’d round the street too. It occurs to you that passing through it was a shortcut, and contradicted his prior statements to having a route that catered towards the long way home, but you chose to not comment much about it.

The second day was curiosity, and you figured that you could live at least just a week with it.

The third day, on the other hand, gave you a little more trouble than you had bargained for.

You’re on your way home from an old friend’s house, and ironically enough, both Tsukishima and his grandfather are out by their front door, tending to the weeds of a garden that doesn’t even look remotely grown.

Tsukishima’s the first to look at you.

Stubborn, and frankly intent on upholding your end of the deal in staying strangers, you attempt to wave them off with a passing greeting as you look through your bag, feeling around for the keys to the gate.

“You don’t have to think of an excuse,” you hear him say. “He’s back inside now. It’s just you and me here.”

It’s funny how ever since you’ve made it back to Kanazawa, he’s been the one to break the silence a lot more lately.

You don’t turn. Strangers, you think. The deal was to pretend the other was a stranger.

“Cam,” he calls out again, the desperation in his voice inching more and more out of its shell. “I’m really sorry.”

You turn around, the buried anger getting the best of you in the moment. “You know the more you say that, the more convinced I am that I should just give you back your ring right now and go back to Tokyo alone. You talk like the only thing you’re sure of is the fact that you won’t be marrying me next week, Kei.”

The moment you shift your gaze from the ground to his eyes, a part of you aches at the idea that you may have to bid farewell to gold. Swallowing down the mass of emotions you hope isn’t entirely just made of anger, you steady yourself and sigh.

It hits you that it’s been a long day.

“It’s just you and me here,” you repeat, slowly. There’s a flutter in your heart that tells you it’s still love that stares back when you look at him. “Then why do you feel so far away, Kei?”

He doesn’t sleep that night.

Day three of being strangers, but he hasn’t had anything figured out. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but what only grew was the silence. The distance is really just a few feet away—across the street and through the leaves of that tree that your father would always say he’d get to.

The light from your room is still turned on, though the curtains are drawn.

8PM and it’s early. 8PM, and on a usual day, you’d usually be seated beside him in your Tokyo apartment’s living room, mulling over the nothings that went on in your day.

It’s nice to talk about the rest of the world as if all they’re meant to be is just a passing blur in the background, he thinks. He’s never been much for words, but you were.

Then again, you had always been one for truth.

Reality is, he knows he could always swallow his doubts, walk across the street, cover the distance, and apologize to you with an I’m sorry, that covers all that needs to be addressed in a standard apology. Life can be lived as easy as that. You swallow your own thoughts, adhere to what they say needs to be done in the way they tell you how to do so, and be done with it.

But he knows you just as well as he knows himself.

You’d call him a coward—and truth be told, he’ll think the same.

Present wise—he does think he is a coward.

Tsukishima sighs, knowing that blinking at your closed curtain visible from his window won’t do much of a difference. Begrudgingly, he sits up, grabbing his glasses from the bedside table.

The streets around the neighborhood are quiet this time of night. The perks about living away from the city was the silence, he thinks. As soon as he tugs on a sweater, he makes his way downstairs, carefully, so he doesn’t stir his grandfather he presumes is sleeping on the room across the hall.

He exhales, relieved at the barely audible creak the door clicks to as soon as he shuts it and turns the lock from the outside. The keys, jingling in his pockets, is the only sound that rings in the quiet.

It isn’t lonely, but it isn’t comfortable either.

Kanazawa has always been a town he’s considered as a piece of constant that’s meant to drift inbetween.

Neither like Tokyo or the towns by the outskirts of Okinawa, it stays as is. Twenty years ago, the crack on the sidewalk was there, and now, twenty years later, it remains.

There’s comfort in recognizing constants, Tsukishima admits. The tree just down this road, the crack on the asphalt, and the fact that your room is still the second window to the left visible from his on the second floor.

When he was younger, he remembers he often would stand under your window, caught in between wanting to knock on your door and ask permission from your parents if you could accompany him for the afternoon, or just wait around until you’d come down yourself.

While he left a lot of things on chance, the conscious choice to stay rooted in the spot by your window remained constant.

The gravel under his feet crackle everytime he’d take a step. The moon’s hazy behind the clouds tonight, he muses. While you’d wish for the stars, he found a temporary safety in the midnight clouds. A timelessness felt when it’s midnight, stays.

Before he turns to the corner that would lead home, he stops midway—recognizing the tree from a good few meters away.

There’s a sense of feeling an urgency to let something go, the more he stares at it. Nearing autumn, the colors start to change, and just like that, he’s reminded of the impermanence in life.

As the earth eventually changes throughout the years, he fears that perhaps in love—it would too.

“You’re out late,” is the first thing Tsukishima hears as soon as he enters the room.

From the genkan, he peers over the shelf, noticing the lights from the kitchen is what floods into the dim living room. Slipping on his house slippers and making his way around the corner, Tsukishima gets a feel of the warmth that’s radiating from the familiarity of the space.

After his grandmother had passed, his grandfather stayed in Kanazawa. Though his mother often expressed her desire for him to move with the rest of the family in Tokyo, every time, he’d only wave them off and say that there’s too much rooted here for him to just up and leave.

Walking into the kitchen, his grandfather’s the first to raise a mug his way and offer a smile. “I’d ask you if everything’s fine, but I think I’ll just wait around and see if you’re even willing to tell me.”

Tsukishima chuckles airily. “Sounds like you wanna ask anyway.”

He takes a slow sip. “Okay then,” he nods, smiling like he’s just struck a deal. “First question is—are you okay?”

In response, Tsukishima smiles, pulling the chair and taking the seat across his. He nods. “’Course I am.”

His grandfather’s eyes don’t leave him. “You’re not wearing the ring, and neither is Cam.”

Suddenly feeling like he’s caught in between a blocked exit and the spotlight, Tsukishima freezes, but wills himself not to look away. “Just needed some space, that’s all.”

“To think?”

He sighs. “To reconsider.”

“Ahh,” the older man sighs. “Cold feet. Pretty normal, if you ask me.”

He raises a brow in question. “It’s normal?”

“To be nervous, yeah,” his grandfather laughs. “But looks like it’s a different case for you.”

Tsukishima doesn’t respond, his eyes fixated towards a spot on the wall that feeds more into the blank space of his thoughts than anything more.

“You’re afraid,” Tsukishima hears, and as soon as the retaliation he tries to string together at the very last minute don’t come—he realizes the core of all the chaos in his head is meant to be just like that—

Blank.

“What are you so afraid of, boy?”

In the silence, he lets the rawness of his truth slowly spill. “What if I hit a plateau after this?”

His grandfather wastes no second in countering. “How is it life if we just keep climbing? What’s the point in doing all that work if we never get rest?”

Tsukishima laughs. “You know, by that logic it can just go the other way around too.”

He settles in his seat, trying to appreciate the silence instead of looking for company in the noise, before he adds, “What if we decide we don’t love each other anymore?”

“That’s not all there is to a plateau,” he laughs. “It’s a valid fear, but being afraid isn’t all there is after you marry someone.”

“Then what’s there?”

With a smile, his grandfather leans back, raises the mug to his lips, and relaxes—his eyes looking fondly at a faded photograph hung beside the wall clock. “Everyday,” he answers. “What’s there after I do is just everyday.”

Sensing that his grandfather means to say more, he chooses to retain his silence. Sighing softly, his grandfather keeps his smile steady as he continues to speak. “Everyday you wake up. You roll over in bed, you think about the checklist you do to consider a day done, then you come home, eat a meal, rest a little and start the whole day over the next day. Everyday’s like that.”

He shifts, leaning forward with his arms crossed supporting his weight on the table as he eyes his grandson with a smile. “Best part is, you can do all that with someone you love. Makes the boring part of the plateau a lot more bearable.”

“You wake up with them and complain about how boring the rest of your day will be, then come home and eat a meal with them. Wash the dishes, share the silence, and just go to bed knowing you’ll wake up with somebody.”

The smile on his face is honest, then he shrugs. “It’s nice, though. The plateau after you hit a certain point in life is just inevitable, Kei. You can either complain about life alone or complain about it with somebody. At least there will be two pairs of slippers by the genkan waiting for you everytime you come home. You’ll say you’ve made it home and someone will greet you. You’ll roll over in bed at 2am and someone will be there with you. The point of climbing in life is to get somewhere, not ascend past the norm.”

Tsukishima stays quiet, pondering over the truth in his grandfather’s words. “So life’s just meant to stay in the middle?” he asks, slowly coming into terms with his grandfather’s redefinition of the plateau. “Life’s meant to find a consistency in everyday,” he corrects.

A few moments pass before he stands back up, pointing to the counter with a thermos. He knows it’s yours. The old one that your mother refused to throw away, because there’s a crack by the lid and a couple faded sailor moon stickers stuck by the side.

“Look at that,” Tsukishima hears. He turns his head just in time to see the old man offer him a patient smile, the message in his eyes delivered without a hitch. “That old thing’s seen a couple of decades, but it still gets to you when you need it, right?”

It’s not so bad to have an old thing be your constant, right?

Twenty minutes after his grandfather climbs back to his room upstairs, Tsukishima’s seated on the side of the table beside the window. Peeking through the half-opened blinds, he can still see that the light from your room is still flicked on.

Without mulling over the decision, he takes his phone out, scrolling through the contacts until he taps your name. A swipe without too much pressure, because even his thumb’s memorized where your name is by now. Kind of like muscle memory, he supposes.

Bypassing the unannounced rules about what to do as the strangers you had claimed from the start of this week, it results to the lack of hesitation as he types a quick text and presses send without a thought that would counter it.

I love you, it reads.

From his spot in the kitchen, he leans back and smiles, pouring himself a cup of the tea he knows you brewed yourself on the nights where he can’t sleep.

The lights from your room stay on for a few more moments before it dims, but before the metaphoric silence could take root, the screen of his phone lights up.

Stop walking around at night. Drink the tea and try to get some sleep.

Exhaling almost in relief, it’s the slow beating of his heart that resettles him back into the love he’s known everyday.

It’s not quite the end, but it isn’t exactly somewhere unpleasant either.

Two days before you’re meant to return to the city, instead of spending the day in your room—like you had initially planned—you somehow found yourself in the passenger seat of his grandfather’s old car, with a grocery list in hand.

You sigh, understanding what his grandfather’s trying to do.

As you look down, there’s nothing much written in the grocery list. He had complained about some back pain earlier, followed up by his insistent request of desperately needing his groceries done so when Akiteru was to arrive later on, dinner would be taken care of.

Beside you, with his hands on the wheel, Tsukishima sighs. “We could have just ordered in food for dinner. It’s just Akiteru coming,” he mumbles.

Keeping your eyes to the window to your left, you shrug. “He likes making the ordinary special, I guess.”

Tsukishima stays silent after that, mentally thankful for the green light and the empty roads. The more stops, the longer silence would stay. And even after the sort of middle ground from the night before, he doesn’t know what to say to you.

After making a quick turn, he pulls up into the parking lot and kills the engine. Unbuckling his seatbelt, he turns to you, with an expectant look. “You can just stay here if you don’t wanna go in with me,” he offers. “It’s a short list, I can be in and out in a bit.”

You wave him off, already slinging on your bag and opening the car door—the list on your hand. “It’s alright. I think I’m more familiar with this area than you are, so we can just meet back in the car in thirty minutes if that’s okay with you.”

“You don’t need me to come with you?” he raises a brow.

You shake your head no, but upkeep the smile on your face anyway as you exit the car and close the door.

Something about what you say sticks with him, the more he thinks about it.

He can distinguish the hesitation laced each of your decisions. You look past him, but not exactly at him. You speak to him, but keep the conversations short. Though conversation was rare between the both of you this past week, the times that you did speak to him, your words often were clipped short.

It’s your means of upkeeping your end of the deal, he realizes.

You’ve always been one for communication, but then again, patience can only stretch so much.

He respects your wish for distance and walks the opposite way from the grocery store, towards a building he doesn’t really known. It’s a gallery, he realizes. Three steps past the entrance, he notices that he’s one of the few that’s in the room.

Traditional artwork line the wall, hung in frames that have rusted throughout time.

Tsukishima stares, eyes drawn to the pieces of art he recognizes from the few scattered memories in his childhood that relate to his time in the city.

A fieldtrip, when he was seven. He remembers leaving the house upset over the yellow hat he had to wear, and the rain boots his teacher wouldn’t let him change out of. Unlike the present, rain was present that day. He stood beside you in line, and had to tilt his head up at the piece of art he always thought was the prettiest out of the bunch.

And now, almost two decades later, he still thinks the same.

He smiles at the memory, finding the comfort of returning to what’s familiar, pleasant.

As if caught by an epiphany, and suddenly enveloped in a sense of a rediscovered home, here, within a room that’s familiar, he finds purpose in the permanence of love.

Love, that’s never meant to be stretched into the likeness of what the poets declare as the absolute form of love after “I do.”

Staring at the piece of art with the rusting frames, the strokes within the canvas still depict the same story. It still is beautiful.

It’s doesn’t become more—but it stays as is.

And maybe that’s what his grandfather was trying to convey.

To fear a certain phase in love is something that comes and goes, but it often never stays. It can linger, but eventually, it too, fades.

What stays is what’s rooted.

Primarily, just you. Truly, just love.

That tree in that old street, these paintings on the walls, and the kind of serenity that washes over him at the thought of you.

The fear in life comes in the form of thinking that beyond the peak lays a plateau. Beyond “I do,” what’s next to come is love, dwindling until “I don’t love you anymore,” is the only thing left to be said.

It’s fear, that spoke to him the past few weeks, so this time, as he gives in, he listens to love.

It’s quiet.

But through the smoke in the room, the message that’s meant to deliver truth comes in full clarity. Illuminated, it appears before him as it is. A painting that’s struck him as beautiful then and now, and the thought of you as the face that’s always been the first to greet him every morning for more than just a few years now.

An old man stands not too far from him, hands clasped behind his back as he stares—with a smile on his face—at a similar painting on the wall. Sensing Tsukishima’s presence, he looks over and redirects the smile his way. “Been coming here for years, and looking at this still feels the same.”

Poking at the doubts, Tsukishima responds, “Are you afraid that it won’t get old?”

The gentleman laughs, though soft enough so it doesn’t echo too much in the halls. The joy lingers around Tsukishima, on the other hand. “To have something grow old with you isn’t a bad thing. Day one, this piece was beautiful, and now, almost forty years later, I look at it and think the same too.”

A beat of silence passes, but the man speaks once more.

“My wife, when she was alive, showed me this piece. Maybe I look at this and still find it beautiful after all these years because I think of her, but I don’t think trying to focus on that matters much. The feeling’s the same, even if it grew old.”

Reciprocating the older man’s goodbye with a nod to the head, it’s then where he laughs, a little bit more of the truth unraveling as each moment comes and goes. Thinking of his words, he dwells on its meaning.

Standing there, alone in the museum hall, the smoke clears, and he presents himself his words of blended truth and patience.

Love is timeless, his thoughts say. The plateau after the peak is as possible as the drop, but life’s meant to be lived in the lows and in betweens as much as the highs. Time moves in waves, and perhaps love doesn’t always grow stagnant. It can be timeless, even though the frames rust. His hair will grey, and maybe you’ll stop linking your pinky with him beneath the sheets during the rainy season’s thunderstorms, but the root of love stays.

Within the plateau, time will move, and you’ll both grow old, but the taste of the tea you’ll brew for him will remain the same.

And thirty minutes later, when he makes it back to the parking lot with you waiting by the door, the love that steadies his beating heart will be the same too.

Steady, present, and timeless.

Eyeing the dashboard, you’re the first to break the silence. “Why’d you buy a postcard?”

Rolling into a stoplight, he eases on the brakes and shrugs. “Lived here for so long, and I don’t even own a postcard from here.”

“Me neither,” you blink.

A couple minutes pass, and the car’s rolling again, but he misses a turn. Assuming that he’s just not used to the usual route, you stay quiet—until about he pulls up to a familiar street.

Parked to the side, through the windshield, you find yourself face to face with a familiar tree. “Kei.” He hums.

The coming autumn has a few leaves beginning to change its colors, you notice. The summer hues, unbalanced, as bits of red begins to bleed through the green. “You were supposed to turn there, not here.”

He shifts the gear into park, then takes his hands off the wheel, leaning back. “I know.”

It’s quiet after that, but it isn’t all that unpleasant either.

This is the part where the questions begin to poke at you, the what-ifs in love let out in the open as you voice a little bit of your vulnerability. And because the truth is daunting, you hope he understands you through the metaphors. “Do you really think they’ll cut it down?”

He doesn’t allow the silence to take more than a moment. “I think so,” he nods his head.

“It’ll be good though, I think,” you add, nodding your head.

It’s quiet in the room even though the words of your truth coaxes the unhealed wound to resurface. As it comes into light, it doesn’t sting.

Sitting shoulder to shoulder beside him in the car, the tree that witnessed the first hello stays rooted, and watches.

He doesn’t turn to you as he speaks, but in a way, you feel as if a farewell was the finale that was meant to be delivered somehow. “It’s good,” he starts. “Letting go of something that needs to be let go of.”

Tokyo

Tsukishima’s the first to speak.

“I’m not good with words,” he starts.

There’s a hush in the crowd, so you stay with it, knowing you’ll only add to the silence should you choose to respond. It wasn’t your turn anyway, so you will yourself to be still and listen.

“Hey Cam,” Tsukishima continues, choosing to begin his vow with a hello. “I think a lot about what love’s supposed to have meant, mean, or eventually mean in the long run. I thought too much about it to the point where it…” he trails off, blinking at the piece of paper before flicking his eyes up to you with a slight shrug. “—to the point where love began to scare me.”

For a brief moment, he closes his eyes, confident in the fact that when he opens them, he knows he’ll see the world in clarity this time. With the smoke cleared and the scattered pieces of all his doubts set in order, the words of his truth may not speak of the most tender poem of love—but within the lines lies his truth.

As he lays his truth on you, he holds a breath and lets it all go. “I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life,” he laughs, exhaling softly, his shoulders shaking a little. “Never occurred to me how much of a liar the downside of your thoughts are when you listen to everything that isn’t love,” he continues.

Your shoulders relax, and even through the blur of the veil, you can tell his eyes are steadily watering.

“I’m sorry,” he says, the microphone just barely picking up what he says. You nod your head anyway, wishing you were holding his hands instead of the bouquet. Reassurance comes in many forms, but you know he’s always been the type to receive it well through physical touch.

A kiss on the cheek, your head on his shoulder, or your hands squeezing his. But the smile you give him suffices for now, you think.

“I wanna wash the dishes with you for the rest of my life. I’ll wash, and you dry. Nothing much happens in our day usually, but nothing has to. I’ll listen to you talk about how shit the traffic is in the city, because I know you’ll listen to me talk about the same complaints I have from Monday to Friday anyway.”

You realize he’s written his vows in the back of a postcard—the one you saw on his dashboard a few days ago, from Kanazawa.

He sniffles a little then looks up, laughing to himself at how emotional he’s getting. Allowing more than just truth to trickle out slow is a part of love too, he realizes, so with a soft laugh, he lets the tears be and speaks again. “What needed to be let go of was let go of,” he exhales, like he’s been holding his breath for this long.

In a sense, maybe he has. Sometimes fear grips you tightly enough that it shifts your point of view from one thing to another. What’s love, becomes fear. Then what’s fear, becomes the smoke that buries the core of truth too deep within the haze.

“I let go of the thought the thought that after marriage, if nothing great would come then that would be the end of love,” he breathes. “I stared at that tree and thought of Grandpa’s words again and again then wrote my apology and I love you on the back of a postcard that only had one a couple of blank lines at most.”

He waves it for you, then to the crowd, to see. The words, jumbled up together look almost incomprehensible written so closely together, but in a way, you have a feeling that he’s just speaking the rest of his truth as it comes in the moment.

The truth in love, you realize, is that its truth comes, fully unraveled the moment the initial plan falls apart.

He puts down the postcard, and just looks at you.

“There’s a lot I don’t think I will ever understand when it comes to love, but maybe I’m here to just feel it and not try to decipher it.” He pauses, ignores the few tears that roll down, and shrugs his shoulders, admitting to himself that the truth in his love is the first thought that comes.

“Love doesn’t have to the greatest,” he tells you. “I just wanna wash dishes with you for the rest of my life and hear about how traffic was unbearable.”

You smile, and your assurance reaches him.

“I think that counts as love too,” he finishes, the smile on his face tender.

As he leans in after I do, he murmurs a question in your ear that you’ve been expecting since the start.

You could have just left, he said. How did you deal with me and still choose to stay?

Your answer was said without a hint of hesitation. With a shrug, and an honest smile, you told him, “Because I love you.”

“I think we both had to let go of the thought that to love always means to have the biggest reasoning behind it. We do things for love, and because of love. That’s just how it is,” you shrugged.

Oddly enough, it’s in that same exact moment where he remembers Bokuto’s question from that dinner a week and some days ago.

How does it feel? he recalls, and even though words have never found him first nor met him in the middle easy, he gathers what he can and just settles on the conclusion that it just feels like love.

Wherein love, is this.

An identical band on his and your finger, and the taste of I do pleasant on the tongue. I love you, as a truth that’s easy to fathom and healing to hold, and the fear of what comes next just a passing thought that goes as soon as it comes.

Later that evening his grandfather sits him down and asks him what he really thinks about why people have been putting off cutting down that tree for a few decades now.

With a laugh, the hesitation that often turns decisions is made clear to him. “You know I think that people would decide things and think they’re so solid on it before even being face to face with it. The second they get to that tree with a chainsaw, I promise you they changed their minds. You think you go there and cut off or let go of one thing, then realize you’re cutting off something else in the end. They go back to what’s been there and realize that it’s not the problem at all.”

Tsukishima sighs, and his grandfather watches, the smile on his face easy. It’s like watching some emerge from a smoked out room, he thinks. Clarity’s always been a blessing, and he’s glad his grandson’s finally found it.

“Sometimes going back to the start is the one thing you need to be reminded that it’s worth it to keep going.”

“Sounds like you’re not talking about the tree,” his grandfather comments. Looking at you, Tsukishima smiles. “You could say that too.”

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paper-n-ashes · 3 years

Text

New Endeavours

Characters: Modern AU!Kylo Ren x Female Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings/Tags: Explicit (18+), Sugar daddy relationship, sexual references but no actual smut, bisexual vibes, attending a strip club.

Author’s Note: This is all because of my love, @maryforyou. An AU venture she ignited and I couldn’t let go of. Read into this however you want, I’m an open book in terms of exploring sexuality without labels. Being the first AU I’ve ever attempted, I kept this as an intro, to hopefully dive into the more explicit content I’ve been ruminating on for too long as a Part 2 (depending on how this is received).

“Are you sure this what you want?”

You smiled sweetly, smoothing out the creases in your dress as Kylo handed you your coat and gloves. “Like I said every day this week, I’m very sure.”

He still appeared doubtful, plush lips twisted in a disbelieving frown. “I could give you anything your heart desires for your birthday, princess,” he urged, helping you to secure the top buttons of your waistcoat, his large frame shifting close to yours. “This barely seems like enough of a gift for such a special occasion.”

Kylo was used to showering you with physical symbols of his adoration in the 18 months you had known him. The man had more money than he knew what to do with, lavishing all types of jewellery and clothing on you, some of the pieces you were certain cost more than your tiny apartment in the outskirts of the city. Every time you tried to refuse the extravagant gifts, Kylo always replied with sweetened notions of needing to worship and adore the personified goddess he saw you as. And when spoken in his infuriatingly mesmerising tenor, they would quickly conquer your resistance.

You were acutely aware of what this looked like from an outside perspective. A wealthy older man courting a young woman over 10 years his junior. Bathing her head to toe in the finest attire, parading her around in places a woman of her standing wouldn’t have been able to afford in two lifetimes.

A label came with this kind of behaviour. One you didn’t particularly like, yet was still true.

Sugar daddy.

There wasn’t a way you could deny that’s how your association with Kylo begun.

You’d heard whispers of other girls at the college you went to doing it. Offering their bodies to the affluent men of this city. At first, you’d scoffed at the idea. But when that third overdue notice of your credit card debt came, with the threat of eviction hanging over your head, you didn’t really have much choice.

A name was given to you of a bar that specialised in these kinds of meetings, completely covertly of course. And there Kylo had found you, hiding away in a secluded corner, stirring the gin and tonic in front of you with a single finger. At first, you’d assumed he was a well-dressed bartender, seemingly too young and strikingly handsome to be in need of a place like this. So you smiled sweetly and told him you weren’t quite done with your drink.

Within such an innocent interaction, Kylo knew he had to have you. And he did, 45 minutes later in the poorly lit bathroom stall, half-dressed bodies clutched together as he had you perch on the porcelain sink, fucking you with an uncharacteristically reckless abandon.

He hadn’t intended to. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he anticipated from that evening, the recommendation being given to him from a higher executive who regularly partook in the questionable operations of this establishment. Kylo meant only to scope the place out, sit for a quiet solitary drink out of the way of other patrons. There, he’d discovered you.

Shrinking into your stool, somewhat inhibited, clearly out of your element. The shy smile that spread across your face after he murmured a stiff hello ensnared him in moments, simply for how sincere it was. He wasn’t used to that.

Another thing Kylo wasn’t used to was the type of electricity that followed in your conversation. Rarely had he experienced an exchange that was so charged yet… genuine. You didn’t appear expectant, didn’t care to know how much money he made or the status of his career. You simply wanted to talk.

It was interesting how this fuelled an urge to make you speechless, to have you resorting to whines and whimpers rather than articulate your thoughts with any words. He didn’t act on them. Content to bide his time, play his cards right, set a precedence of composure and restraint in the hope of securing another meeting. You, however, had never cultivated the same type of discipline Kylo had.

After too many long minutes of flirtatious banter, you leaned forward, mouthing in a hushed tone, asking him to meet you in the women’s bathroom.

The chance encounter had bound you for longer than predicted.

Although never explicitly stated, the two of you fulfilled a portion of each other’s needs. Kylo required adequate distraction from his corporate life, someone who could slip into his erratic schedule with ease to… relieve him of mounting tension. In return, he provided you the monetary means to live in the city of your dreams without constant fear of homelessness.

In the months that passed, your arrangement turned into something stable, secure. His presence a constant in your life. While his working hours were long and finishing times unpredictable, Kylo could always count on you to be summoned to him from a single text message. Be it in the middle of the day, or the early hours of morning, you would race to a place of his choosing. Sometimes at his lush apartment, sometimes his office, and a plethora of restaurant bathrooms across the city after particularly stressful business lunches.

Initially, your involvement was kept mostly out of public view. Kylo had wanted to protect you from the judgements and negative connotations that were unavoidable in the arena of his work. Around the year mark, these reservations about being seen with you seemed to dissipate. Soon you were linked hand in hand at countless high-class dinners and charity events. A poised and elegant couple, right until the last set of eyes moved away.

This is where you had your fun.

As spectacular as Kylo was at fucking you until you saw stars, he’d surprisingly gone this long in life without venturing into more creative territory when it came to satisfaction. His version of sex was fast and hard, needing as much as you as he could get, chasing release with no frills or diversion. He’d never had the time, or the right lover, to encourage any of his deeply hidden fantasies. Until you.

You were game for anything. Sexually adventurous. Ready and willing to try all there was on offer just to elicit the highest levels of ecstasy. It was difficult not to be at the thought of Kylo’s hands, his mouth, his tongue, any part of him.

Although a little more slowly, he began to welcome new experiences, new pursuits of pleasure. Witnessing your reactions to these efforts became somewhat of an addiction for him. The way you writhed and squealed when exploring anal play for the first time. The way you surrendered and adored his verbal degradation and physical strikes. The way your body twitched and spasmed after the use of a newly obtained toy purchased with his platinum credit card.

You never pushed him, or forced him into anything he found uncomfortable in the chase of a sexual high. Communication was paramount, and boundaries were respected.

Interestingly enough, tonight was a boundary he never thought you’d cross.

“This is what I asked for, remember?” you smiled, taking the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to his nose.

Kylo’s apprehension refused to dissipate, while still clutching you closer. “It just… seems like this is something I will enjoy more than you.”

You barely withheld the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re sure about that, are you?”

His eyebrows crinkled, thinking the question over. There was the hint of a smirk that tugged the corner of his mouth, a subtle excited quiver in the breath he exhaled. “So you’re not doing this for me?”

“Not at all,” you breathed. Your palm slipped under his clean-shaven jaw, skating a thumb reassuringly over his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

“You have?”

You hummed a yes, drifting your lips intoxicatingly close to his, staring up with wide eyes.

Kylo’s mouth twisted slightly. “I wouldn’t want you to feel jealous, princess.”

“You’re only looking,” you insisted softly. “And, even if you touch a little…” You bit your lip at the thought. “Those women won’t be who gets to be taken home and fucked until it hurts.”

There was a noticeable tensing in the arms circled around you, as Kylo’s eyes began to burn with an impatient greed. “I could do that now, right against this door.”

It was difficult to deny how you’d happily allow him to make true on that statement. To slam you into the exquisitely carved oak door of his apartment and fill you to your absolute limit. However, the tantalising image of your planned evening was too consuming, heaving and tugging for you to indulge a deeply embedded desire you’d never been brave enough to pursue.

“Save it for when we get home,” you chirped, reaching for the doorhandle and dragging Kylo into the hallway.

“Follow me,” the maître D instructed, her voice cheerfully welcoming. Even the sight of her silken, green dress was intimidating, the fabric glossing over her nimble shape as she guided you up the set of stairs. The lighting was low, almost too dark to see properly, Kylo’s grip strong as your steps were drowned out by the sultry music emanating behind the double doors at the apex. As they were opened to you, the hypnotic baseline ricocheted around your body.

You scanned around the large room, bold lights illuminating a risen stage with two currently unused silver poles at either corner. Plush chairs circled around, occupied by a differing array of men. Slinking between the patrons were women decorated with luxurious, high-end lingerie, each one styled and set to provoke unyielding temptation.

This was a completely new undertaking for you. Attending a strip club. Usually a male endeavour, seeking out instant gratification in the form of scantily clad bodies and paid attention. You knew this was an unusual request for a birthday outing, yet in truth there was nothing from Kylo you wanted more.

The two reasons were somewhat opposing, although they would still feed the same goal. Satisfying a craving.

One being that you had always found women to be alluring and captivating to a height you’d never really accepted, almost been afraid of. Only with time and maturity had you learned your attraction to them was a natural occurrence you were now ready to explore.

The other reason was a little more scandalous, and what you hadn’t quite articulated to Kylo yet. To have the view of his eyes roaming another woman’s almost naked body as she exposed herself to him, drove you wild. In a situation you should feel jealousy, you were only devoured by an uncontainable lust.

Occasionally your mind had forayed into imaginations where he would take another like he’d taken you countless times, able to watch his hands clawing at supple breasts, the smooth motion of his hips, how his thick cock would split a tight, dripping cunt in two. All the while he would deride and goad you, layering you with taunts, desperate to inflame your envy and ownership.

Your plan for this particular evening didn’t extend that far. You only wished to enjoy the performance of mesmeric women in their most enchanting form, observe Kylo’s undeniable arousal at the same lithe, flexible bodies, and return home to remind him that only you could ignite the billowing flames of a violent release.

Oh, but that plan crumbled when you’d each settled into your seats, just in time for the next show of seduction. A pair of glittered, platform heels slinked near to the pole closest to you, your vision roaming upwards over the statuesque figure they connected to. Delicately laced, ivory fabric shielded her most intimate portions from full view, conforming flawlessly to the curves of her figure. Somehow demure yet indecently sensual.

Lips parted, your breath hitched as the exquisite woman twirled around, her eyes trained to you as she let a wicked smile appear. You were sure this was a regular occurrence, a flirtation she expressed to all the patrons in this room. Yet, as she began to move in time with the decadent beat of the music, her eyes stayed transfixed to you marvelling stare.

In an unprecedented display of courage, you beckoned Kylo closer to you, whispering to his ear. “Her. That’s what I really want for my birthday.”

*To be continued*

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