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frost-queen · 1 year

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To lose yourself (Reader x Anthony Bridgerton)

Requested by: anon, Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @merlin-dahlia, @alex--awesome--22 @elllie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve, @queen-of-books, @glimmering-darling-dolly@denkisclown, @wildieflower, @meyocoko, @bubblybrianna, @justanothercoco@subjecta13-thefangirl, @m-rae23, @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr, @swampthing07, @melsunshine, @freyathehuntress

Summary: You and Anthony have an intense moment in the library at Lady Danbury's ball. It leads to full on kissing till his sister Daphne enters shockingly. Teasingly she starts telling you to duel her just like Anthony once did with Simon.

The music swept up as your feet moved swiftly. Your dance partner almost unable to keep up. Spinning round, you were panting loud. Wanting to have your eyes on him. Not far from you stood Anthony Bridgerton. Holding his hand up as a girl in a pink dress twirled underneath it. His eyes fixated on you whilst yours were on him. Your partner held you once more, hand moving to your lower back. You took a piece of your dress, waltzing round in a wide circle to follow the moving dancers round the center piece in the middle.

Looking over his shoulder, you wanted to see Anthony. When your gaze met up, they shone with a hunger and craving you had never seen. Something feral hiding inside them. His expression tensed. Clearly it bothered him you were dancing with another. The feeling was mutual as you wanted to push that girl gladly to the side. You came to a stop, turning as your back was pressed to his chest.

Your partner’s hand sliding down your arm. Your breath shivered, imagining it was Anthony touching you. Anthony went wild, nearly pushing his partner off to go and collect you for him. Seeing how the lord was touching you made him jealous. Angry like a hound ready to claim it’s feast. You spun back round, hand slowly moving down. The music fading out.

Your hand dropped to the side, out of breath. Your partner clapped as you suddenly felt stared at with such intensity it could burn holes inside of you. Turning around you saw Anthony’s gaze pierce through your body. Your body automatically moving forwards to reach him. Wanting him near. The yearning in your heart increasing with each beat. You hated your partner for taking away your focus by speaking to you.

You were still at the dancefloor as he wondered if you wanted to dance once more. Shaking your head, you looked back where you last found him. No one there making you desperately look around in search for him. Every fiber in your body wanted to be near him. Drawn like magnets to his, your body itched with a craving so deep you could not name it. How was it that such a man had a hold over you.

What happened to the girl who used to claim no man could get her weak in her knees. Here you were now, so weak in your knees for the Viscount. The eldest Bridgerton. There was no denying the Bridgerton brother’s were pleasing to look upon. You found Benedict to be very humorous. Colin could whisk you away with his million stories off other worldly places.

You moved away letting new dancers get into place. Gaze forever searching for the Viscount. Where could he be? Standing lost, you circled round, looking in every direction. You crossed eyes with Lady Danbury who quirked her eyebrow thoughtfully up. Was she perhaps seeing through your desperate matters of finding him? Could she see through your heart and find it held the Viscount’s name? Her curious glance made you hurry to the side, disappearing into the crowd.

Heat flushing up, it made you quicken your breath. A man came in sight, finger in the ready to address you. It made you clutch onto the dance card dangling below your wrist. Not at this moment you thought. You couldn’t take another dance, not while yearning for Lord Bridgerton. It was him, you wished to dance with, yet despite it all he hadn’t come forwards yet to claim each and every line on your dance card. Filling it up with his name. He had not.

Shaking your head, you made clear to the man you were not interested in dancing. He humbly bowed his head, letting you pass. Getting on the tips of your toes, you were still searching. Wherever could he be? Would he be hiding from you? Cool down in the cold outside’s blanket or simply avoid you to maintain his manners. It was slowly killing you, not knowing or finding him.

There! You spotted Benedict Bridgerton amongst the crowd. He was in the company of a few other men. For a second you hesitated into making your way over and simply ask about the whereabouts of his brother. Then seeing the other men around him, made you stop your foolish idea. Exhaling deep, you weren’t sure what to do about yourself. You were getting so worked up on yourself, you could barely function. It was if the Viscount wouldn’t appear this instant, you might explode. Burst into a thousand stars. Illuminating twinkles that flutter up to the sky to be one with the heavens.

Then a warm hand pressed on your lower back, made you gasp for air. The touch made your body shudder. Whoever had such an effect over you? Before you could turn around and confront the uncivil man, he came in sight. Moving around your shoulder to look down at your face. – “Miss Y/n.” – Anthony breathed out close to your cheek. You closed your eyes, taking in a shuddered breath. Almost losing yourself to temptation. – “My lord.” – you breathed out feeling his hand slide further across your lower back to your waist. He came standing in front of you, breathing heavily upon you.

His chest rising and falling with deep breaths. Your body stumbled forwards falling into the nothingness. Lord Bridgerton had pulled away. Fluttering with your eyelashes, you looked disoriented around. Over your shoulder, you saw the piercing gaze of Lady Danbury. Was she perhaps the reason for his departure? Perhaps she saw just how close the two of you were getting in public. Her gaze made you question a million things.

Looking back forwards, you saw the last of Lord Bridgerton disappear through the crowd, towards the doors. Swallowing nervously, you went in pursuit. If Lady Danbury already had an opinion off the two of you, it wouldn’t change much now. What difference did it make if you simply accepted it. Pushing through people, you made your to the corridors. Seeing Anthony loosen up his collar and making an escape for it. You went after him, wanting to be close to him. You didn’t want him to avoid you.

You quickened your pace, seeing him enter a room. You rushed inside, shutting the door behind you. – “Miss Y/n?” – Anthony’s eyes widened. He stood hovered over a small table in the library of Lady Danbury. His posture straightened at the sight of you. – “You should not have come here.” – he spoke, creating a distance between you and him. You let go of the doorknob, walking closer to him. – “If you want me to leave, tell me.” – you spoke, getting closer. Anthony kept going back, battling with his inner demons.

The temptations of touching you weighing heavier than ever. He avoided eye contact knowing what one look of yours would do to him. He bumped against the bookshelves, having no where else to go. You got close, too close for him to function. He grabbed your upper arms out of defense. Breathing loudly near you. – “Tell me to leave if that is what you want.” – you breathed out, staring at his bare chest peeking out from his opened shirt. The first few buttons opened in a desperate matter.

You felt his grip tighten around your arms, pushing you closer to him. You looked up, seeing how close his lips were in reach. – “Y/n…” – he breathed out against your cheek. His heart pulsating through his veins. All this time he had been avoiding your gaze. Now he dared to look down, into your sweet eyes. One look of yours struck him. Tension rose in your body as your heart thumped loudly against your chest. Anthony knew if he didn’t stop himself now, he wouldn’t be able to control himself later.

You placed your hand on his chest to let him know this is what you wanted. The moment your hand touched his chest, he grabbed your face. Smacking his lips onto yours. His hands moved desperately over your body, craving your touch. The kiss was on edge. It made you grab him too, lips smacking desperately onto another, quick breaths in between. Anthony bumped against the bookshelves making some books fall down. A few hit him in the back, not caring one bit for it.

He moved his hands around your waist, leading you away from the bookcase. Your back hit the table, making you grab for it with one hand. Taking a quick breath, lips brushed against each other. Seemingly never satisfied. You were panting against his lips in between touches. Tongues mixing itself in between. Anthony pressed you firmer against the table, pressing himself deeper onto you. He let his hand glide down your arm, reaching your hand. He took it, pressing it firmly onto the table with his hand on top.

He removed his lips from yours, kissing your neck. It made you gasp loud, feeling the intense tingling inside of you. Tilting his chin up with your finger, you guided him towards your lips once more. Anthony smiling. Your back arched, leaning back over the table as he kept kissing you. You were so caught up in the kiss, you didn’t hear the door open. A shocked Daphne entering. Her loud gasp made you widen your eyes. – “Anthony!” – she shouted, making him push himself off you.

Out of breath, he moved his hand to his hip. – “Daphne… what… what… are you.” – he cleared his throat unable to find the right words to cover this up. – “Brother!” – she said shockingly, gaping at you. – “This is…” – Anthony breathed out, looking over at you. Daphne changed her expression. She came standing before her brother towards you. – “You will marry my brother!” – she exclaimed. – “What?” – Anthony called out confused. Your eyes widened, not sure what to answer. She moved her finger up, pointing to you then.

“I’ll duel you!” – she made clear. – “Are you mad?” – Anthony called out, grabbing his sister by the shoulder. Daphne brushed his grip off, snickering. – “Is it not what you said to Simon when it was me in this position?” – she had turned around, quirking her eyebrow up to her brother. She then turned around to you. – “A duel at dawn! For the hand of my brother.” – you weren’t sure at first if she meant it, till you saw her crack a smile.

She started laughing loud. It made you laugh too, tension slowly fading out of your system. Anthony looked sternly at his sister. Daphne turned to you once more, approaching closer. – “I know you love him.” – she whispered to you out of Anthony’s reach. It made you look over her shoulder to him. – “Consider this your engagement proposal. The ton can’t know of what I witnessed now. You are now bound to my brother to be wed after the social season.” – she made clear.

You nodded in agreement. There wasn’t much to say against it. Daphne stepped away, locking her arm around her brother. – “Now we must return civil.” – she patted her brother on the chest. – “Congratulations, you are now a taken man.” – she laughed, pulling him with her.

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midmourn · 6 months

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drivers license

title drivers license

pairing huang renjun x gender neutral!reader

summary you don’t know how he can be so okay when you’re not.

warnings angst, post break up

word count 1308

“I hate him, but I miss him. How is that even possible?” You murmur into Karina’s shoulder, the dark haired girl frowning in sympathy as she wrapped her arms around you. A cold breeze flew through the air, making you shiver and Karina held you tighter, as if she was the only thing holding you together.

“Love sucks,” is all she had to offer. The two of you have already gone through this so much throughout the last month since you and Renjun broke up. She didn’t know how someone could love and miss and hate the same person all at once. You talked even more about the boy than you did when you were still dating. She thought it was bad enough back then, now she missed that time more than ever. She never thought she would.

“I wish …” You sniffed, feeling tears sting at your eyes. No, you weren’t going to cry. Not again. “I wish I never met him.”

Karina didn’t say anything. She was too distracted by the fact that the bane of your existence and the object of your desires all at once walked in, a familiar blonde girl walking in front of him. You heard her inhale sharply, pulling you away and grabbing your face in her hands. You frowned, looking at her in confusion as tears gathered in the corner of your eyes.

“Let’s go to a Rage Room,” she smiled, desperately trying to keep your eyes on her. She always did. “Get all our anger out there.” She then added, “Legally.”

Despite the tears, you laughed and wiped under your eyes, “OK. Let’s go.”

Karina didn’t tell you that Renjun was there, or that his eyes followed you out of the diner. She was terrible for it; but she couldn’t let him hurt you again.

After finally getting your driver’s license, you willingly drove everywhere. More often than not, you were out and about instead of wallowing in your room. Your friends would ask for rides in an attempt to distract you, but very rarely would it work. Especially when you always somehow found yourself driving through the same streets you once went to almost every other day. But instead, you weren’t the one driving back then— Renjun was.

The car slowed down as you drove past a familiar home, and you found yourself searching through the windows and yard for even a glance of Renjun. When you did, you regretted it immediately.

At the side of the house, Renjun wore swim trunks and held a pool floatie in his hand, looking behind him. Your heart soared at the sight of him in betrayal, before it dropped when you saw what he was looking at.

As soon as you saw the familiar, long, blonde hair, your foot pressed down on the gas and sped away from the house. Tears blurred your vision, blinking repeatedly to get them out as you could see as you drove. You hope he didn’t know what car you drove. You knew he didn’t.

How could he be so OK after you were gone? Did he never actually care? If he did care, he wouldn’t still be hanging out with the girl that broke the two of you up.

Your lips trembled, blinking furiously as your chest rose up and down at a pace that was concerning. A broken sob ripped out of your chest, making you immediately pull to the side of the road and park your car.

“Oh, come on, just show me!” You laughed, not understanding why Renjun was so worried for you to see the notebook in his hands.

“No! It’s embarrassing,” Renjun laughed in embarrassment, clutching his notebook to his chest tightly.

“Do you think I’ll laugh?” You tilted your head, looking at him with a soft smile. You then understood it was a vulnerable moment for him. “I won’t. I love everything you do.”

Renjun stared at you for a moment before relenting, slowly placing the notebook on the table, “OK, but … If you hate it, don’t tell me. Just pretend you like it.”

“No need to pretend,” you grin, sliding the notebook to your side of the table and flicking through it until you got to the last page that was written on. Your eyes carefully read through the lyrics, spotting your name with hearts decorated around it adorably on top. You swore your heart stopped beating for a moment before it rapidly increased in beats. When you finished, your face was blank and you didn’t say anything for a moment.

He sighed, throwing his head back as he closed his eyes in embarrassment and dread, “See, I knew you’d hate it. Why do you never listen to me—” He whined cutely, trying to change the topic so you two never had to speak about the damn song again.

“Shut up,” you cut him off, reaching over the table to grip his cheeks lightly, making him stare you in the eyes. “Huang Renjun, I love you. I love this song. And …” Your grin grew bashful, “I want us to be together forever, too.”

Guess he didn’t mean that.

For the next thirty minutes, you sobbed and screamed in the driver's seat of your car. You were sure you looked like a mess to the other people in their cars, but you didn’t care. Not at the moment, anyway.

Your crying fit was interrupted when red and blue lights shone through the car. You hadn’t realized how quickly it got dark in the past thirty minutes. Cursing when you saw the police car parking behind you, you threw your head back in frustration. It didn’t matter if Renjun didn’t love you anymore, because your parents would kill you if you got a ticket this early into your driver’s license.

You rolled down your window as the officer walked up to the car, his flashlight shining at the car.

“Everything alright here?” The brown haired man asked, glancing around inside the car before looking outside the car.

Clearing your throat, you forgot you had been crying and your eyes and face were flushed red. Your swiped at your face almost discreetly, but you knew he saw. “Um, yeah, I’m fine, Officer. Sorry, just …” You paused, unsure how to go about this. Law enforcement made you nervous. “Got some bad news.”

He nodded slowly, your eyes glancing down to his badge to read JUNG on the name tag. “I’m sorry to hear that. Alright, well … It’s dangerous out at night around here, you should get on home.”

“Yes, sir, thank you,” you forced a smile, nodding. Officer Jung stared at you for a moment before nodding once and walking back to his car. You watched him start to leave, the red and blue lights blinding you momentarily.

For a moment, you swore you could see Renjun’s face in the lights. You blinked, and he was gone. You scoffed at yourself in disbelief after pausing in shock, shaking your head and turning your car on. Were you going crazy?

It wasn’t abnormal for you to see Renjun’s face in everything. You’d think you saw him across the room, and almost give yourself whiplash trying to find him. He was never there.

You exhaled, glancing around as you came up to the street that held Renjun’s favorite cat cafe. You stopped at the red light just before you’d turn, thinking. Did you really want to drive past the cafe? Knowing you’d just torture yourself by being reminded of all the memories.

When the light turned green, you did an illegal U-turn and ignored the furious honking behind you. You sped down the street, letting out a breath of relief once you were away from the street.

You’d just find another way to get home. Even if it was longer.

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deaths-presence · 3 months

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Two of a Kind || Dazai x Reader Part 4: Woven Threads

Story Summary: The search for your brother has led you into conflict between the Armed Detective Agency of Yokohama and the Guild. Fitzgerald keeps you involuntarily, that is until you finally find your chance of escape. Will you find strength within the ADA, or will you only become more astray? Word Count: 2.2k Characters Featured: F. Scott Fitzgerald, Atsushi Nakajima, Lucy Montgomery Warnings: afab!reader, slowburn, plot heavy to build up romance, very tiny small mention of Atsushi's abuse, lmk if I happened to miss anything please! Tag List: @decaf-nosebleed @isa-ghost @xakumi @bunchofdoodlesinspace A/N: If you want to be added to the tag list, feel free to let me know! Psssst, guess who's finally showing up next chapter now that we're done building the beginning plot? :)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Time was a blur as you ran. Your lungs were on fire and your feet slapped against the hard pavement in a steady rhythm. You ignored the curious stares that followed you, and you attempted to stay close to the docks. You didn’t know where to go. You were in an unfamiliar city in a foreign country. You had nobody to rely on, and every thought swarming through your head about the Guild and the Port Mafia was only creating more anxiety. You had to leave, and you didn’t know how. You wish you had just found Roberte already. There was no calling for help unless you went through the Guild, and you did not want to resort to crawling back into Fitzgerald’s clutches. Your freedom was right in front of you, and you were going to steal it back.

You were forced to catch your breath, the air in your chest circulating in and out in desperate wheezes as you leaned against the nearest wall. You doubled over and closed your eyes as you focused on taking a slow, deep inhale and letting it out slowly. You repeated this several times, and not only did it help with feeling like you were no longer suffocating, but also helped in regaining awareness of your situation.

The relaxing silence was interrupted with a small commotion that sounded close. You instinctively made yourself small and proceeded with silent footsteps to investigate. The voice inside your head screamed at you to keep running and find a ship that was heading back to America, but your curiosity was winning.

As you turned one of the corners, you gasped before slapping a hand over your mouth to keep quiet. You silently prayed while you hid yourself behind the corner of the building again, hoping that Fitzgerald did not spot you. With no footsteps hurrying toward you, you gave a sigh of relief and cautiously allowed yourself to evaluate the scene.

Your eyes were stuck on one individual, and it wasn’t Fitzgerald. Despite your captor and Melville being present, the boy with white choppy hair that you thought dead was standing right before your eyes. He was accompanied by a small girl in a red kimono, her black hair pulled into two twin-tails. You remember seeing a glimpse of her when you had landed with Hawthorne and the others, but she had seemingly run off while no one noticed.

The growing burning sensation in your chest was not from lack of oxygen this time, and it was with surprise that you recognized it as anger. You noticed that the boy was already disheveled and bleeding, whether it was by Fitzgerald’s hands or not, it didn’t matter. You decided not to make the same mistake again.

A brave step out was met with the sight of the boy’s hand turning into the claws of a tiger, but before he could attack the two Guild members, a bullet shot across and met with his head to render him unconscious. The girl had started to reveal her short sword before a bullet contacted her hand, leaving it instantaneously bleeding and bruised red. You realized with horror just who was shooting these bullets. Though they were made of rubber, only one person could be so skilled.

The knowing laugh made you nauseated, your eyes finally looking at Fitzgerald as he smiled at you. Your freedom was a sick joke. You were never unshackled, and what Fitzgerald said next only confirmed it.

“Miss Louisa’s strategies are always so perfect.”

Your dreadful world turned black after you heard the next and final shot.

⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘⫘

Waking up was a chore for once. The adrenaline in your body had finally worn off, and the soreness in your muscles made you want to cry out pathetically. You nearly sobbed for another reason. Your surroundings were all too familiar. You were back on the Moby Dick; in the very same room you were previously using. The frustrated scream that was torn from your chest shocked you, but you couldn’t stop it. It felt like minutes before it finally cut off with choppy breath, slamming your fist against one of the walls. You would never escape.

You stood up carefully and shuffled over to the nearest corner, hugging your knees to your chest and hiding your face. Later, the door opened and the voice of a boy yelling to be let go entered your ears. You were startled enough to finally look up when he attempted to hit the walls and look out the compact window. At the same time, he noticed you. It was the tiger boy.

“I have to get out of here. Yokohama is in danger,” he said weakly, realizing his defeat being encased in the room; just as you already had for months. You shook your head quietly at him, and it pained you to see him look forlorn and broken.

“I’m afraid that this aircraft is meant to keep us inside,” you murmured in a horrible attempt at comfort. “It is good to at least see you alive, minus the circumstances.”

It was quiet for a long moment, and you nearly assumed he wouldn’t remember you before you felt a presence beside you. Your eyes flickered to the left of where you were sitting to see him joined with you on the floor. This close, you saw more details of him. Whoever had cut his bangs must have been scared by something while they had the scissors in their hands. Out of all the hair that was white, there was one strip of it that was black. His eyes still reminded you of the late summer sunsets, warm and innocent as they watched you.

“I’m Atsushi,” he introduced himself with a gentle smile. Such a warm welcome nearly brought tears to your eyes, and you looked away before he could see. You saw the way his smile began to fade at your reaction, but you offered your own name quietly and the smile returned.

“I’ve never wanted to hurt people,” you began to explain. “I simply ended up in the wrong hands, and now I am paying the price for my own trusting nature. I haven’t had free will for months. I’ve been forced to follow and stay silent unless spoken to. It’s safer that way. I came here to reunite with my brother, but instead I am finding myself a bird in a luxurious cage and my ability to be used until I am disposed of.”

Atsushi’s sympathetic expression lifted a weight off your shoulders. For the first time in a long while, you felt heard and seen by someone who felt more like a friend than a superior. The words you had spoken were probably the most you had heard from yourself in several weeks, and it certainly made you emotional. You felt on the verge of finally breaking, but you wouldn’t leave Atsushi to deal with that uncomfortable situation. You pushed back the threat of tears pricking at your eyes and focused on him.

“I didn’t even know you were the weretiger Lord Francis was looking for,” you mentioned with a clear grimace. “That’s how uninvolved I am. I have only heard mentions of you in passing between other Guild members, and I always wondered what was so special that he placed a bounty on your head. I was the one that hesitated to hurt you in that fight by the fountain; the one with the water ability. I can take on other appearances, and with them their abilities if the person harbors one.”

Something in your words made Atsushi frown, and for a moment you were terrified that you had offended him, or worse scared him with the mention of what you could do. The one person who you were managing to befriend, and you could easily tarnish it and have it pulled out of your grasp. Thankfully, he reassured you with his reply. “I would like to thank you for sparing me that day. Many say that hesitation is weak, but you have a sense of mercy. I could see in your eyes,” he stated with a little smile “As for Fitzgerald, he said something about me being a key of some sort. A ‘tiger beetle.’ I have no idea what he’s talking about,” he recalled. You nodded, not out of understanding, but to let Atsushi know that he had your attention.

“You said that Yokohama was in danger?” you timidly questioned. You felt the urge to hug the poor boy as he was pulled back into the current dilemma, his expression changing from confusion to the dawning apprehension that his city was being threatened.

“Fitzgerald plans to burn it all to the ground, the Agency and the Port Mafia along with it. He said it was some sort of incineration operation. I have to warn everyone. I have to get the doll to Dazai.”

You were about to interject his panicked rambling when you both were interrupted by another outside source.

“You two sure do look cozy in there. I just came to check on you when I was taking out the garbage,” Lucy said, her tone dripping with smugness. Her voice prompted Atsushi to leave your side and attempt to convince her to let him out. Normally you would be comforted by Lucy’s presence, but your thoughts went elsewhere while they conversed. You were able to pick up on their conversation when they both showed their burn scars from a hot iron poker. Your heart ached with sympathy for each of them, and you saw the gears of similarity clicking together and turning.

One moment you were in the locked room, but in the blink of an eye you found yourself with Atsushi in Lucy’s room. Her ability allowed her to create a personal space for her and the giant ragdoll called Anne, time and space warping to create such an idea. It had been the first time she had allowed you in, and you could see why she would want to use it as her own escape where no one could reach her. It was then you noticed that in one of her hands was the doll that Atsushi must have referenced earlier.

“Dazai only needs to be able to touch the doll in order to stop the curse,” he guaranteed Lucy when she said it would be too late.

“We are high in the air and unlikely to come down any time soon. What are you planning—?" you began to question, but the look on Atsushi’s face told you and Lucy that he would risk his own life to get the doll to whoever Dazai was.

“Atsushi, you can’t—” you started while shaking your head. “You’ll die.”

There was a moment of silence before Lucy spoke. “So, if you’re serious, then you’ll probably get shot and killed in the air or get cut up by the mad men down there. You know that already, and you’re still going to do it.”

“There was an old book I read back at the orphanage,” Atsushi replied. “One of the passages stood out to me. It read, ‘I’ve never regretted any of the things I’ve done. I’ve only regretted the things that I didn’t do.’”

Atsushi was pulled out of his thoughts when Anne loomed over him to offer a parachute bag. The boy’s sunset eyes observed it in confusion before Lucy explained that she had kept it in case she needed to escape.

“I only have one, so if you would like to stay with me in Anne’s room,” she offered to you, but you watched the surprise take over her expression further when you shook your head.

“I can’t stay here any longer, Lucy. I have to find Roberte even if he isn’t here, and I realize how much of my life I’m beginning to miss being trapped in this aircraft forever in Fitzgerald’s hands. I’ll come back for you.” You offered her a smile which she returned.

“We both will,” Atsushi added with determination.

“How will you get down? I only have one parachute and it’s Atsushi’s,” Lucy inquired with a frown. “You’ll die instead of him.”

“Don’t forget why I was captured to begin with. I have several cards up my sleeve,” you answered.

The door in Anne’s Room opened to show the exterior of the Moby Dick, the wind coursing through your hair. Your body tensed at the idea of how high up in the atmosphere you were, the clouds just below you and the city of Yokohama so small beyond them. You could see pillars of smoke from several directions, a heavy feeling in your stomach as you realized Fitzgerald already put his plan in motion.

You took a deep breath and focused on using your ability. You took on the Change that you used to escape the Zelda when it was set aflame with explosions, the wings protruding from your back and your blonde hair glowing orange in the setting sun. Your eyes didn’t have to adjust as harshly as before once the Change was completed.

You barely registered having time to brace yourself for the big drop down as Atsushi gave you a determined nod, then bravely jumped without hesitation. You glanced back at Lucy one last time, nodding your thanks before leaping after Atsushi. You were airborne.

#dazai osamu #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd dazai osamu #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x reader #bsd x reader #bsd x female reader #dazai imagines #dazai x y/n

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spotlightlowlife · 4 months

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Helluva Boss has a responsibility issue - Fizz and Ozzie edition

And for another unpopular option

The episode 'Oops', just two episodes ago, revealed something, interesting.

During his capture, Fizz was allowed to face his trauma (which also placed leading character Blitzø in the victim club (but gave us a cliffhanger as to how) making his apology something guaranteed to be accepted) involving the past, he learnt new information, made amends with Blitzø, hot rescued and went home.

All good.

He also claimed he never wanted to go outside again.

Now here's the interesting part.

At the start of the episode, Fizz looked forward to going to his contest rehearsal, in the greed ring, where he would meet Mammon, his other boss.

Ozzie's whole issue was how dangerous the greed ring was and how he didn't want Fizz travelling alone. Fizz had to cute his way into getting what he wanted that was travelling unescorted.

Away from Ozzie, Fizz admitted that it was "great not being in the spotlight for once", but remember, he's about to meet Mammon who we would be lead to believe is the cause of all his remaining issues the following episode.

The following episode, Fizz would be stressed out about the pageant, understandable enough, he could easily be toppled from his decade long champion reign and needs to keep up appearances but he's covering an injury from his recent abduction. Why was it OK for Ozzie to withhold the foundation Fizz desperately searched for as he attempted to talk Fizz out of entering the pageant, only handing it over upon failure? Ozzie tries talking Fizz into failure to attend on grounds of Mammon being an issue (which is the first we hear and we have no proof) and being the reason behind the creeps, but didn't Fizz as good as let us know in the last episode where Mammon wasn't an issue that the spotlight he's constantly in is stressful, but who gets the blame for this?

Not his partner, the prince of lust who manufactures his dolls but now doesn't like them after how many years

and runs a hyper sexual club where he has him on stage and easily accessible to fans and haters.

On the subject of fans, specifically creeps who Mammon is supposedly to blame for, the only creep we are then introduced to is the stalker who has been obsessed since Fizz was a teen in the circus. Over 15 years ago since this was the time or the accident, but Fizz has been the reigning champion of the clown pageants for the past 10 years and 'Oops' let's us know that Fizz has been the face of Mammon's brand 'since' meeting Ozzie?

For one, where has this scary stalker been all this time?

And two, if Fizz and Ozzie's relationship predates Fizz's branding, then why is he doubting Ozzie's love for him stripped of his elevation down to Mammon? And how long have they been a thing?

Doubting those who care, performance anxiety and not feeling good enough dispite being excellent are shown to have always been a thing, as has being manipulated by those who wish to exploit and those who care alike

but what was the solution? Once willing to accept the validation constantly offered, blame the annual job that just become an issue this subplot, the idolised employers who just become an issue this subplot, then quit, to do what? Spend even more time at his other job that he also wants time away from, where his boss won't let him out of his sight and is also his lover?

Fizz is waa that starry eyed child who fails to hear and see how others are responding to him, such as Blitzø back when they were younger failing to answer the question of if he could win the pageant, the exploitative Buckzo seeing him as the perfect child (which is very significant) or Ozzie's claim that he would have had everything he already has without Mammon as Fizz sits in the pageant dressing room and we're now blaming Mammon for the attention he receives, just this episode. Fizz is highly impressionable yet highly emotional and entirely vulnerable when stressed, which is why he will always have others undermining his choice.

Damsel in distress again but Fizz wasn't scared for his safety, ever, he needed the courage to lessen the load and find his voice, he needed confidence that only he could summon, it happened in his own time, this is good.

Only, what if it happened at the beginning of the episode where Ozzie talked him up then? What if he stuck to his words from the last episode and understandably wanted stay indoors? This way we could have seen Mammon be that horrible boss who doesn't care for safety and wellbeing and forces work, or that horrible boss who will replace someone they underappreciated immediately, but no, he was the fall guy to give Fizz and Ozzie the lovey dovey moment the fanbase craves and stick it to man at whilst at it.

Again, this may not be an accidental bad writing, but more supply and demand for the same needy audience who will lap up misses and inconsistency without question because the cute quota was met. I'm still open to the last episode being a worked on more recently.

#helluva boss fandom #helluva boss critical #helluva boss asmodeus #helluva boss fizzarolli #helluva boss mammon #helluva boss critique #episode commentary #did i miss something

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itbmojojoejo · 11 months

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Fall From Grace | Osferth x Novice!Reader

This is a little drabble I put together for @emilyhufflepufftlk 's- 500 Followers Challenge. The prompts I chose are: Album - Reputation (black, revenge, secret relationships) & Song -Don’t Blame Me. (I've never done one of these challenges before sooo..enjoy?)

Pairing: Osferth x Novice!Reader | Wordcount: 879.

Warnings: Mentions of death and very lightly implied sexual intimacy.

As the years passed a story was whispered amongst the younger novice’s of Coccham Abbey talking of how one of their own fell from grace with the Abbess. This story spoke of a novice who sought shelter from danish raids sweeping through Northumbrian towns, destroying nunnery’s as they went, she was rescued by a fallen monk and his fellow warriors on their own travels and the pair became so enamoured with one another that she followed him to every settlement he called home until the cruel promise of death stole him from her and she vowed to get her revenge wandering the lands surrounding Rumcofa shrouded in a cold black cloak unable to stray too far from her love’s graveside.

Osferth had never forgotten the first moment his eyes landed on you, the wild look in your eyes as you stumbled through the bushes into their camp, the dirt smeared over your face hiding your true beauty, and seeing the relief that washed over you as you were informed that this group you had accidentally found hidden away in the trees would not harm you.

His gentle nature put you at ease almost instantly as you travelled with them for safe passage onto the next town, warnings of danes being nearer than expected had made you wary to linger in the town and asked if you could accompany the men further south. Uhtred had been reluctant to agree, it was only when Osferth had declared your safety to be his responsibility that it was allowed.

As you journeyed further south the pair of you talked about your faiths, why he had left the monastery in favour of joining Uhtred, why you had been made to flee Whitby Abbey and move between nunnery’s around Northumbria searching for your own sense of peace.

Osferth joined you for prayers in the wilderness and watchful gazes turned into lingering touches, whispers between the pair of you at night turned into lips ghosting over each other. You never let yourself cross the line of a real kiss or allowed a touch to become one of desire, and slowly your prayers turned into almost begging, you had no wish to succumb to the madness of love.

You had settled at the nunnery in Coccham not wanting to be far from your sweet warrior monk who found himself searching you out more and more frequently, choosing to spend his free time sitting beside you in quiet meditation within the small church. When Osferth had to leave for battle or a mission you found it near impossible to follow the scriptures, your mind echoed with thoughts of him and him alone as you prayed for his safe return.

He had been gone for so long that you feared the worst had happened, on the day of his return to Coccham you had slipped free from the confines of the house and stood awkwardly in the doorway of the ale house, Sihtric pointed out your presence and Osferth willingly followed you to the very edge of the town hidden out of sight by the trees.

The sweet gentle kisses you gave up to him soon became full of need and desperation, you let him take all of you that evening in the wood under the evening sky. Over the coming weeks you were disappearing from the nunnery more and more often being seen here and there with Osferth, it didn’t go unnoticed to the elder nuns who informed the Abbess, you were subjected to the punishment of prayer from morning to night until your addiction for the fallen monk waned.

Osferth had been gone months with no word other than whispers amongst the townsfolk of treachery and you felt forgotten, dismissed, abandoned even, until a group of travelling bishops had talked of Uhtred being the new Lord of Rumcofa.

“You’ve gone too far this time child.” The Abbess scolded after hearing of your plan to flee and you snatched back your meagre belongings

“If I am to fall from grace, so be it.” You had chosen love for Osferth over all other things at that moment.

From the day you had arrived in Rumcofa you stayed by Osferth’s side, fallen novice and fallen monk together in an unofficial union. You enjoyed many peaceful years with your sweet love until the day of his death at the hands of unknown men, the grief of losing your one true love swallowed you whole. You vowed to never shed the cold colour of black, living in perpetual mourning and swore as soon as you knew the name of the man who was responsible for taking Osferth from you his life would be ended.

Finan and his wife Ingrith had pleaded with you to leave Rumcofa behind and follow them to Bebbanburg but you could not. Your place was by Osferth’s side and you soon stopped praying to be saved from the pain of grief, accepting your fate of waiting to join him.

“Why did she leave the safety of Coccham behind though? All women speak of the heartbreak from loving a warrior.” “Love is what made her do it.”

#prompt challenge #osferth x reader #osferth x you #osferth tlk #tlk fanfic

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chriscrosswallflower-blog · 2 months

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we're not brave, were not soldiers

chapter 3 - i may fail you

For ten days, the whole of Camp Halfblood fought to return to some semblance of normal. It took a few days for training to start back up, but when it did the kids fought with gusto, channeling their fear and anger into their weapons. Camp activities continued, even on days when there were more kids absent than present. Frustration with the Gods became oil paintings and grief became mournful songs, but they trudged on anyway.

It all fell apart on the tenth day.

One part of camp that couldn’t go back to normal was the infirmary. Once all of the critical wounds from the battle were treated, there were follow ups, PTSD attacks, and a massive wave of the flu that swept through the camp.

“It’s not so odd when you think about it. Stress brings down the immune system; I'm surprised we aren’t seeing even more illness,” Will explained to Percy during one of the ten minute breaks the hero forced the healer to take. Just long enough to scarf down the food Percy brought and make sure his siblings were fed before jumping back into the fray.

Percy had taken to bringing the Apollo cabin their evening meals when he realized he hadn’t seen the whole cabin in the dining hall together once since the battle. Usually they rotated in teams of one and two, with two being in the infirmary and one resting and taking care of the little ones. It wasn’t perfect and the three eldest Apollo campers looked constantly dead on their feet - even with the little help that Chiron was able to provide in addition to his other duties. When they weren’t working, they were researching ways to handle the wave of mental health crises that were popping up throughout camp. It was unsustainable; something was bound to give.

Percy was visiting his mom on the tenth day after the battle. He had only visited her briefly the day after the battle and he found himself aching for one of her strong, reassuring hugs. Percy tried to be there for the younger campers as much as he could, talking them through their anxiety and grief and training with them as much as he was physically able to. But the weight of his own grief was heavy–almost too much to bear. He needed his mom, needed someone to care for just him for a change. Not the hero of Olympus, but the 16 year old who had to bear more than anyone ever should. He just wished he hadn’t gone to see her on that tenth day.

When Percy arrived back at Camp Halfblood the next day, he could feel the shift in the atmosphere. Where before the camp had been bustling with a sort of forced productivity, now there was an air of hopelessness. Percy immediately made his way to the Athena cabin, fear choking him until he set eyes on Annabeth, who immediately pulled him into a desperate hug.

“An Ares kid died yesterday. Sepsis. They think she was afraid to go back to the infirmary so by the time they caught it, there was nothing they could do.” Annabeth whispered, her heart aching at the pain in her boyfriend’s eyes.

“How is everyone holding up?”

“Everyone is taking it pretty hard, especially the Ares cabin. We all thought it was over and then another one of us dies. The Apollo kids are spent; I took them dinner yesterday and Kayla looked about ready to collapse. Austin was really broken up at the shroud burning and I haven’t even seen Will since it happened.”

The two agreed to go together to bring the Apollo cabin food that night so they could try to make each of them take at least a small break. Austin greeted them at the door, almost falling into Annabeth’s arms at the sight of her understanding eyes. Meanwhile, Percy went in search of Will, knowing it could take a while to hunt down the head healer.

Eventually Percy found him tending to a girl who had a severe stomach bug. He went to call out to the boy but his words died in his throat when he caught sight of the massive bruise across his eye and cheek.

“What the hell happened?” Percy asked with more venom than intended when the healer stepped out the room, making Will flinch minutely before shooting him a rueful smile.

“Just a patient with a mean right hook, no big deal. Are those your mom’s blue cookies?” Percy handed over the food and the entire bag of cookies, shock still clouding his mind. Will shoved a cookie in his mouth before making a hurried excuse of not having time to stop at the moment before Percy regained enough of his wits to grab the boy’s wrist.

“You know you can talk to me right? I know it’s hard, but you know as well as I do that you can’t keep going like this.” Percy whispered, worrying that he pushed too hard when he saw the other boy’s jaw clench.

“I know, but I can’t now. Please?” His plea echoed with the many things neither could bear to say.

I have to take care of them before I can break

I can’t do this alone but I can’t ask for help

Please be there when I fall apart

But not yet, please not yet

“Can I at least hug you then?” Percy asked, desperate to do something. Will nodded, not trusting his voice before falling into the other boy’s arms. They both held on tightly for several minutes, finding comfort in the other’s quiet strength. Neither would ever mention the slight wet spot on their shoulders afterwards.

—

The next day Chiron held an informal meeting with all of the camp counselors and leaders to discuss camp activities in a bid to help things get back to normal. It was immediately noticeable that tensions were running high. Several other campers had tagged along just for something to do, including several Ares campers who were anxious to get out of their cabin and nearly vibrating with anger that had nowhere to go.

It all came to a head when Chiron brought up the next game of Capture the Flag, which was meant to be held the next week. A few murmurs of excitement rose up amongst the crowd before Will’s soft voice spoke up.

“Chiron, are we sure we can handle Capture the Flag so soon? The infirmary is overrun with all of the flu cases, not to mention we have a supply shortage. I don’t know if we can handle an influx of injuries right now.”

“For fucks sake, the one thing you’re useful for is running that damn infirmary and you can’t even do that right. We can’t even have a bit of fun for worry that you might let someone else die!” Sherman exploded at Will who froze, a brief flash of heartache crossing his face before being wiped away with a distant, close off expression. The older boy jumped to his feet, clenching his bruised knuckles with a rage that threatened to explode out of him.

Before he knew it, Percy was out of his seat.

“Who the hell do you think you are?!” Percy growled as the crowd came to a dead silence. There was a distant creaking sound underneath them as the pipes shuddered with anticipation.

“Will has saved nearly every one of our lives at some point. The Apollo cabin is working themselves to death trying to keep everyone alive and healthy while everyone else gets to try to go back to normal. So unless you’re doing something to help, shut the hell up and sit down!”

Sherman looked desperately at Clarisse as the power began to radiate off of Percy in waves. The older girl just smirked.

“I told you i’d kick your ass next time you said something to Solace. You’re lucky Jackson got to you before I did.” A few surprised giggles lightened the atmosphere as Sherman sat down, thoroughly chastised. Chiron cleared his throat before launching into some ideas on how to make Capture the Flag more sustainable for the infirmary and the camp as a whole. Percy managed to catch Will’s gaze and though his face was still flushed with shame, his face lit up in a small but genuine smile.

And if Percy might have threatened to beat the shit out of Sherman if he ever touched the kid again before sparring with him for the majority of the day to release both of their anger, Will never had to know

Read more on Ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/39827199/chapters/105342594#workskin

#ao3 #fanfic #percabeth #percy and annabeth #pjo #percy jackson #solangelo #will solace #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic

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jasdiary · 1 year

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Pressured princess Juvia for the Royal au! 🙂🙂🙂

[Thank you to @rosietrace for giving me the idea of Juvia’s curse!!]

Anddd tagging the other besties in this au ofc: @authoruio (who owns Mitch 💓), @starry-night-rose , @fumikomiyasaki @nem0-nee (who owns Mayuu💘) and @sakuramidnight15 )

Juvia’s the heir to the family throne, slowly being crushed by the weight of all the expectations that have been placed on her by her family (namely her mother). She was one of the few people within the Kingdom to be cursed by an unknown entity : All her dreams may never come true. Every night when she goes to sleep, she has the sweetest of dreams. A free life to do whatever she wishes, her mother supporting her, and her fiancé being right by her side…but it was all just a dream…Right?

Finally fed up with the treatment she receives, Juvia racks up the courage to run away from everything. But…she doesn’t know where she’s going. The only place she’s memorized how to get to just so happens to be her arranged fiancé’s castle.

She makes her way there, not knowing she’s being followed. Her personal knight Deuce Spade, assigned to keep and eye on her, continues with his duty to protect her and stays ten steps behind Juvia throughout her journey. As much as it pains him to see Juvia with her fiancé, He knows he never stood a chance. Only In his dreams.

Once Juvia’s finally made it to his castle, she manages to sneak behind towards the fountain hidden in the flower garden surrounded by deep red roses and sunny marigolds. Their favorite flowers. And his favorite place to be at night. She calls out his name, not loudly as to not disturb anyone who could possibly be around, but loud enough for him to snap his head back at the familiar voice he’s grown to love.

“I need you to help me, Mitch. This is the one thing I ask of you so please..”

The desperation in Juvia’s voice made his heart strain. Mitch didn’t even know he could still feel such things. There was only one thing on his mind after that moment : Bring Juvia the happiness she deserves.

From then on, Mitch guided Juvia away from all the things that hurt her, her soft shaky hand in his rough calloused one. The hand Deuce’s gloved hand has only held from helping her down the stairs.

On their way to who knows where, the Royals (and hidden knight) stumble upon an old, mossy tower. Originally intending to just walk on by, they hear questionable noises from said tower. A crash, a groan, and a swear. Well….curiosity killed that cat. Naturally, they went up into the tower. Mitch’s hold on Juvia was tight with the creaky steps and falling rubble. Once they reached the top, it truly was a sight to behold.

Books scattered, pages with near ineligible writing and drawings and a couple spilt potions had covered the floor of the towers only room. And stood in the corner was someone with their back turned, talking to themselves and searching for something.

“Uhm…Excuse me!”

The hooded figure jumped and screeched in shock at a voice other than their own. They took their hood off to reveal a young woman with glasses, blue hair and heavy dark circles. After the initial shock, the woman introduced herself as Mayuu, a wizard who resides in this tower with the intent to guide those who come across. It was almost ironic the two Royals decided to feed their curiosity and venture inside.

“What can I do? Will I ever find the freedom and happiness I’ve longed for?”

Juvia explained her curse to the wizard Mayuu, doing her best to not shed a tear. She was always the emotional type. Mayuu couldn’t help but feel an intense wave of nostalgia course through her body. She’s dealt with this situation before. Very recently.

“Go against your curse. Set your happiness in stone and you’ll be the victor. What do you really want to do?”

What do I really want to do? It was a rather vague question but it gave Juvia the push she needed. She knew exactly what she wanted. She wanted to be with someone. Someone who loves her, who cares for her, is willing to protect her and support her throughout all the rough times. But that arose yet another problem….There were two people who fit that description. Juvia loved Mitch, she really did. But she made up her mind the moment she met him. Her knight Deuce Spade was the one.

Mitch could see it in her eyes and facial expression, the way her breathing started to pick up. He wanted to be the one, but that would defeat the purpose of his goal. He wants Juvia wants to be happy, and her happiness is with her Knight. Walking down and out of the tower after giving the wizard Mayuu an extremely generous payment, It was silent. The two of them just stood there facing one another, eyes however staring at the ground which seemed more important. Mitch was the one to break the silence, how unusual of him… He took Juvia’s hand once more for the last time, bowed, and placed a gentle fluttering kiss upon her hand.

“I hope you find your happiness, even without me.”

And with that he looks behind Juvia, signaling towards the Knight that he can stop hiding. She whips her head around, in utter shock at the sight of Deuce. Slowly, the princess and the knight walked towards each other, as if scared the other would disappear. Once they stood merely a few centimeters apart, a wave of light surrounded them. Blue butterflies with golden specks flew freely in the area. The curse was lifted, Juvia knew. She finally found her happiness.

Mitch, used to this feeling of emptiness, simply turned around with the slightest smile on his face and made his way back home.

His mission was completed.

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always-andromeda · 2 years

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Tabletop | Eli Sunday x fem!Reader

Eli Sunday x fem!Reader

Word Count | 1,295

Author's Notes | this is another one you can thank soph for. she has infected me with the Eli Sunday disease.

Warnings | smut (MDNI), unprotected sex, sprinkles of misogyny, slight overstimulation, nothing else I can think of!

He’s been seething with arousal the entire day. Eli Sunday woke up that morning, wanting his daily fix of you just to get him through the day. But you’d gotten up long before him and started on your chores; nowhere near the mood to start something at that moment.

Of course he was frustrated. Eli wished you had just woken him up the second your eyes popped open. Wished he’d gotten to spend that morning rolling around under the sheets with you before fulfilling his obligations to the church. Alas, your sense of responsibility was reminding him of what kind of man he should be: strong, respectful, and exercising self restraint.

So off he went to his church. He keeps his resolve steady while clasping the spindly hands of the old women who come to him for guidance, the men who are searching for respite from the bottle, and the children who desperately need to hear the Lord's word while they are blank canvases. He sweats under the summer sun and waits for it to fall beyond the horizon. Waits until he passes through the threshold of his humble home with you. Tries not to salivate at the sight of you, hunched over the stove, slaving away over dinner.

However, the mask is wearing thinner as he sits across from you at the dining table, watches you take bites of the dinner you made. With his own plate left untouched, he was a starved man. Left wallowing in his own ruthless imagination as he instilled morality in the minds of his herd, he felt no guilt. Just a hunger only you could fulfill.

You spoke then, “You gonna eat something, dear? Is there something wrong with dinner?”

“Nothing’s wrong, my angel." He tilted his head, watched your lips parted in anticipation. "How about you take our plates away?”

With what he wanted to do, he didn’t want the fine dishes to be destroyed in the crossfire. They were a wedding gift from your family and you adored them. It would break your little heart if they were to end up shattered by the end of the night. So like the good little wife you are, you gather the dishes and set them in the kitchen sink, getting ready to work at cleaning them until you hear him call you back to him.

“Come back here, darling.” You approach the cushioned dining chair he sits upon, unflinching in how he devours your figure with his eyes. As you come closer, he raises a hand. You stop, brow lowered in confusion.

He shakes his head side to side before tapping the surface of the beautifully varnished dinner table.

Eli says simply, “Get on it.”

You falter. Whisper a quiet, “What?” But it’s loud enough that Eli hears it; senses your bewilderment with what he’s asking of you.

“It’s quite simple, angel. I need you to get on the table.” You glance towards it nervously.

Eli encourages you again, “Come now. Don’t make me wait.” Already feeling a slight bit of humiliation flushing your cheeks, you climb up on the glossy, dark oak surface.

He watches you follow his commands, his crooked smile growing with each of your uncertain moves, “On your knees…thaaat’s it.” Once you position yourself, legs folded under your behind and precious knees protected from the hard surface with the fabric of your dress, you look to him for approval. He only beckons you towards him once again.

Says, “Now come. Crawl.”

Still, you hesitate to be his good, obedient wife in this awkward position.

He pushes once more, that familiar warm lilt entering his tone, “I said now, my angel. Don’t worry, I won’t bite. Not unless you want me to.” The twinkle in his eye is what convinces you to make the arduous journey.

It couldn’t have been more than a few feet between you and where he sat, but it felt like forever. You could tell by now that he had something in store for you and if made you excited; left you growing greedy with your own want underneath your skirts. Had you breathing shallowly as your face came inches from his. Now you were close enough that Eli could brush your hair behind your ear.

Close enough that he didn’t even have to scoot forward in his chair to say, “Very good, darling. That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Before kissing you like an animal.

He drags you chin towards him and hungrily takes the lips of his beloved. Pulls away just long enough to command, “On your back now, dear.” With the all consuming throb in his trousers, he couldn't wait long enough to bring you back to the bedroom.

Besides, you already looked delectable, splayed out like a Christmas feast on the tabletop. A feast fit for one.

You do what you're told now, of course. You lay back and stare at the ceiling. When he pulls you towards him by your thighs, you yelp at how swiftly you slid across the lacquered table. In a measured manner, Eli unbuckles his trousers and pulls himself out. His cock is thick and colored with a pulsating pink, nearly the same shade as his burning cheeks.

His hands creep up your legs, hiking the long dress up until the fabric gathers just below your chest. And he makes quick work of your bloomers, throwing them off in some corner. But the most rousing sensation comes when he bends down to hover over you. Because now, you can feel his hard cock pressed right against your abdomen.

“Are you ready to be lavished? Because I’ve been dying to have you all day, dear.” He whispers before kissing you. Not even a second after you whimper a “yes” into the kiss and he's already thrusting into you. He takes what he needs right from the start as he pounds into you.

You jolt with a loud cry each time his skin slaps against yours roughly. His pace is crushing, forcing you to wrap your legs around him and grab onto his shirt collar. You pull him down closer so he can kiss you deeply and swallow all of the broken little sounds you utter. Eli puts his back into it, rutting against you until he thinks he might collapse.

But he’s so close. And judging by the way your nails start to dig into his back, you’re not too far behind him. He gives entirely into the creature inside of him as he spills his seed inside your clenching hole; lets your cunt soak up every drop of him. It’s almost comforting as he gives you a few more good thrusts with his spent cock.

Though his bones are weary and he yearns to lay his aching head upon your shoulder, he presses onwards, bringing you to your own end. Just like a good husband would.

You constrict around him in every way: hook your feet together, drag him closer so his chest presses into yours, make him drink up the high pitched whine that comes with your release. He drowns in you, your pleasure, and your cunt as the muscles spasm once more, making him groan and twitch from the sting of overstimulation.

Covered in a layer of sticky sweat, he peels himself from you and pulls out. His own legs wobble as he helps you sit up. The sight of your poor, hard working husband has you pulling him into your arms in a tender hug. He buries his head in your shoulder, closes his eyes, and sniffs deeply; inhaling your musk and the stench of sex still in the air.

“You did wonderfully, angel. So wonderful for me.” He praises as you run your fingers through his hair.

#danonation #paul dano #danocel #there will be blood #eli sunday #eli sunday x reader #eli sunday x you #eli sunday x y/n #eli sunday smut #˚ʚ meda writes ɞ˚

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moralesispunk · 2 years

Text

The Fire Between Us

Chapter 3.5 - Kindle (reader's POV)

[Masterlist] [Chapter Three] [Chapter Four]

Din Djarin x Mandalorian! Female Reader

Summary: It's been one year since you last saw Din and you don't know if he's alive or dead; injured or just running from you...

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: canon style violence, reader is a bounty hunter, unresolved angst (that is dealt with in chapter 3),

A/n: I wanted to post this before chapter 4 so there is more of an insight into why reader is so stand-offish (and perhaps untrusting) of Din

Read on Ao3 here!

It had been almost a year to the day since you had last laid eyes on Din Djarin and not a single day had gone by where you didn’t think of him.

For the most part you were left with the last memory you had of him - the pain that seeped through his words after you had all but questioned why he had helped you before he stormed off your ship never to be seen again. When you finally found the energy to make your way to the cockpit - around an hour after you had silently watched the Crest crash through the tops of the trees and bolt into hyperspace - you flew back to the Covert, truly believing that Din would already be there.

You fought off the unnerving feeling in the pit of your stomach as you brought your ship in to land with no sight of the Crest below, convincing yourself that Din needed to blow off some steam and had gone on another bounty. When you walked through the tunnels towards your room you never thought he would be gone longer than a few days, a week at most, and that this was just another argument that had gone too far and would be resolved by an apology before you went back to your usual teasing and taunting.

But then a week passed, and another, before it was coming up for a month and you began to panic. You had gathered your weapons and spent the following weeks searching every corner of the galaxy for a rogue Mandalorian, asking everyone if he had been seen or heard. It didn’t take long before you were begged by your parents and Adrean, the Armorer, and even your own heart that was growing exhausted from how desperately you had been searching for him, to stop.

When you returned to the Covert, empty handed and broken hearted, you threw yourself into bounty hunting and were only returning to the Covert to sleep and eat between bounties in the hope that you would have no time to think of Din… but that never worked.

Most of the time your mind went to the memory of watching him storm off your ship, his helmet refusing to turn back no matter how many times you shouted after him. Every time you thought of this moment you played out what would have happened if it had gone differently - if you had thanked him and asked him to stay with you until you had enough energy to fly home. You would have sat by side, a comfortable silence covering you both - perhaps some pleasant teasing rather the kind that left you feeling empty - and you would share out your energy bars until wishing each other a safe journey home before your ships landed side by side back on Nevarro.

Times you weren’t stuck replaying, or reimagining, this moment were filled with emotions just as painful as regret: anguish at the thought that perhaps something had gone wrong and his body was abandoned on a planet somewhere; grief at the thought of never seeing him again; and anger whenever you were having a particularly low day and let the thought pass through your mind that Din had just… ran.

Today when you looked in the mirror you no longer recognised the reflection, a once strong and powerful Mandalorian reduced to a shell of her former self after forcing your body to work to exhaustion each day in hope of going five minutes without being tormented by thoughts of him.

Even if you could go a day with your mind too distracted by a bounty to think of him - which was rare - every night when you went to sleep he was there waiting for you. Some nights you dreamt of the both of you living side by side in the Covert, sitting beside one another with pinkies brushing by each other as the Armorer spoke out to the crowd before you were both placed on armory duty together and you would silently clean the weapons, stolen glances shared. Other nights you dreamt of his first night in the Covert, the memory of sadness that had given way to a soft smile for a moment as you waved over your Father’s shoulder at him. There had even been a few dreams where you were with him free of your helmets, an image drawn up of what he could look like now - the same dark brown eyes he had as an ade and messy, dark hair with a smirk that never left his face. It didn’t matter what you dreamt of - happy or sad, simple or complex - you woke each morning in bed by yourself, a second of peace passing where you forgot that Din wasn’t here before it hit you and you had to drag your body from bed.

Last night’s dream had been a memory, a time you were injured in training and placed on armory duty until you were better. Din’s armory duty just so happened to coincide with yours for the next few weeks, your bodies that were still growing into their armor standing side by side in silence every evening for three weeks.

It was the knowledge that you wouldn’t have any more memories that made it so hard to get up from bed; that, and your aching limbs from returning after midnight after dropping your latest bounty off at the Cantina. You knew your parents and Adrean would try to dissuade you from going out again today and so you quickly washed, sneaking back out through the tunnels towards the Cantina with the sun already so high in the sky.

It was too late in the day for a decent bounty and the only ones that would be left now really wouldn’t be worth the hassle but hopefully enough to take you off planet for a few days including travel to some backwater planet.

You could feel Karga’s gaze on you from the second you stepped into the Cantina, his eyes following you carefully as you tried not to limp too much from the pain in your side after yesterday’s bounty had thrown one hell of a punch against you. You bit down on your bottom lip to stifle the pained groan as you slipped into the booth across from him, his hand hesitantly reaching for a puck.

“When was the last time you slept?”

You didn’t answer, your hands resting on your thigh and your helmet tilting back to rest against the booth as he stared into your visor. Some days Karga played this game, concern etched into his words before he finally gave in and handed you the puck. Other days he didn’t bring the subject up at all, his eyes avoiding the shawdy patched up armor that covered your body after a particularly nasty run in with a bounty.

Today was apparently the former and you stared back at him until he spoke again.

“I heard you dropped off a bounty this morning before I got here… and you’re already back for another?”

“And?”

Your word hung in the air, Karga raising an eyebrow across at you as he made a point to let his eyes drag down the armor covered in a ridiculous number of dents and scratches. With your mind almost always elsewhere - stranded wherever Din was - you had grown careless and had more close calls in the last year than ever before.

Sometimes you could convince yourself that Karga was doing this because he cared - he questioned your suitability to be taking another bounty because it could always be your last - but other days when you were particularly moody you took it as an act; he had already lost his top bounty hunter and now he could only watch as he was close to losing his second to carelessness.

Eventually Karga relented, sighing and pushing the puck the rest of the way across the table and into your hand. Your palm settled over it, scratching it along towards the edge of the table as you stood up. When you looked back down Karga was shaking his head and your hands were fidgeting with your rifle strap as you fought whether or not to ask the question that was on the tip of your tongue.

“Have you-” you cleared your throat, tapping the puck nervously on the edge of the table. “Have you heard anything?”

It had been weeks since you last asked. You knew that other than you, Karga was the next person who would have heard news of Din being back in the bounty hunting game. At first you would ask Karga on every visit but as disappointment gave way to embarrassment each time you asked you did so less and less, only bringing it up every so often.

Karga looked back at you, shaking his head with a sympathetic look in his eyes. You nodded once, turning back to the door before he could speak.

“Sorry, Kid,” he said and you shrugged, already heading for the exit before he could say any more.

The second you were on the ship you set course for Vandor - the last planet the bounty had been spotted on - before staring out of the window for the whole flight there. You didn’t even take your helmet off, the hard beskar resting back against the soft headrest as your mind was lost in the lights of time and space that whizzed by until your ship zoomed out of hyperspace and you took over the controls while bringing her in to land.

Vandor was a cold planet, even more so at this time of the cycle when the snow was starting to freeze over, and by the time you jumped down from the cockpit the cold air was already seeping through the scruffy metal of your ship. After opening and closing almost every drawer you finally found an old cloak, tying it around your neck and letting it hang over your shoulders to drape down to your calves. The hood and rim was lined with fur, stopping any heat from escaping beneath your helmet as you stepped off your ship and buried deeper into the thick material as you walked through the small forest at the edge of the city.

This part of bounty hunting had always been monotonous work but it kept your mind busy; asking for information on the bounty until you were finally led to the dark corners of the city. You had almost done a full circle, ending not far from where you had first entered the city through the thick rows of trees and as you climbed the steps towards the flashing sigh of the club you shook the snow off your boots and hood.

The doorman stood bored with his arms crossed until you pulled out enough credits for him to step aside, opening the door and letting the thumping music spill out. You dimmed the volume on your helmet as you stepped in, avoiding the busiest part of the club where the lights were flashing wildly and the dancefloor was full as you walked along the wall until finding a table at the back.

“A drink?”

You looked up from where you had been brushing the snowflakes from your cloak to two bar staff, dressed in very little and leaning across the booth.

“No,” you answered gruffly, adding a quiet “thank you,” before they walked away.

As you continued to keep your guard up and scan around the room, you couldn’t help the swirling in the bottom of your stomach. You were well past the days of bounty hunting making you nervous, the only real effect it had on your body any more being the spikes of adrenaline that made your body shake and heart race as you came down once you were safely back in the cockpit, so you weren’t sure what was causing it now.

Never one to ignore your instincts, you kept your fingers within reach of your blaster; your years upon years of training meaning you could have it out of the holster, aimed and fired within a heartbeat.

You sat at the table for a while longer, a few more people coming up to try their hand and buy you a drink or attempt to convince you to ditch the helmet and meet them in the bathroom, and just when you were about to give up hope the tracker began to buzz against your belt.

You didn’t lift it, not wanting the red flashing to draw any attention, and so you let it be as you scanned across the club for the bounty you had seen on the puck. Eventually your eyes landed on him, standing at the bar relaxed and unaware of your hunter eyes trained on him as he ordered another drink and let his head bob to the music.

It was always almost amusing to you how, despite having a bounty on their head worth a decent amount of credits, the bounties always seemed to go about living life without concern that anyone could be watching them. You smirked as your hand fell to your blaster, feet already carrying you through the sea of the bodies towards him.

But then came a flash of light.

Your eyes had instinctively begun to search out the cause that had sparked a fire in the pit of your stomach, your eyes eventually landing on the familiar beskar that knocked you breathless as you stood in the middle of the dancefloor.

The lights of the club were flashing around and every couple of seconds, if you stood in this exact spot, they would flash off a beskar helmet and blind your vision for a moment.

He was already staring at you, his arms relaxed over the back of a booth and legs spread wide as a twi’lek clung to his side. For a second - the tiniest, fraction of a second - you were relieved. Din - your Din - was alive and he was here. After months of thinking the worst, thinking that he had been killed and he would never be offered a proper Mandalorian funeral as his body lay in the depths of the outer rim - that you would never get to say goodbye - here he was, living proof that he was okay.

It didn’t take long for the relief to give way to the rage that spread through your body; he was alive and he was here, running away from you and what had happened almost a year ago to the day.

You noticed the puck on his table, reminding you of your very own, and you quickly turned, forcing your body away from the man you wanted nothing more than to run into his arms and scream “thank the maker you are alive,” no matter how angry you were; if you didn’t leave now you didn’t know what you would end up doing.

The bounty was right in front of you when you turned around, his eyes falling to the red flashing light on your belt. He was massive, his arms larger than your helmet and your helmet only coming up to the middle of his chest, but in the moment it was no match against your fury. Before he could even drop the glass in his hand and run in the other direction you had already raised your fist, his body slumping to the ground as soon as it connected with his face.

Only a few people noticed - most too busy dancing - and so you were free to wrap a rope around his legs and carry him towards the door without much fuss.

For a year you had dreamt about Din following you home, back to the Covert, but now you hoped more than anything he would stay. You didn’t trust yourself with him. You didn’t know whether you would cry and proclaim your love or shout and knock him out as quickly as the bounty.

Usually you would have taken a little more care as you brought the bounty back to the ship but you needed to get out of there as fast as possible, quickly tying his legs together and ignoring the pain in your back as you dragged him towards your ship. You had almost made it halfway, your boots dragging through the icy snow and your hands catching your falling body on more than one occasion, when you heard the familiar voice call out to you.

“Verd’ika.”

You dropped the rope from across your shoulder before turning around to face him.

“Djarin.”

It was dark now but you could just make out from under the moonlight that was fighting through the trees how he had been leaning against a trunk before pushing off it, walking slowly over to you. He held himself… differently than you had remembered; the same armor, the same voice, everything telling you that this was Din but as he stood before you, you knew that this wasn’t your Din.

“Been a while,” you said, forcing your voice not to shake.

He didn’t reply, nodding once before coming to a stop far closer than need be so your helmet had to tilt up towards him. You refused to speak first again, tilting your helmet and waiting for him to go on.

“Miss me?” He asked.

You sighed, rolling your eyes under your helmet and reaching for the bounty who you had left - rather uncomfortably - on the ground. Fuck him - he doesn’t even see what his running off has done to you.

“Listen, I’ve got places to be but it’s nice to know you’re alive since you just disappeared off the face of the earth.”

He quickly reached for your wrist as you turned around, his leather pressing tight against yours and holding you in place as you gasped before turning to the side and looking up at him.

“Are- are you leaving now?” He asked and you wrenched your wrist from his hold; his warm touch that had almost begun to feel natural disappearing.

“Yes. Looks like you were quite busy back there anyway,” you nodded your chin over his shoulder towards the Twi’lek who was making her way through the forest towards you, shouting for “Mando”.

“I-”

“It’s fine, Din,” you said and you noticed his shoulders fall at the bite in your words, “I’m glad you’re still alive.”

You didn’t wait for an answer this time, turning on your heels and marching back to the ship as the tears that were spilling down your cheek blurred your vision.

This time it was Din who was forced to watch as you walked away and nothing about it felt good.

Additional notes: so there we have it, the year without Din! I will be continuing on with the main story on the 8 June however I am on holiday an out of the country on the date so if there is trouble posting it will be pushed back to the following week when I am home! I hope you all enjoyed

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fic #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x oc #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x female oc #the mandalorian #mandalorian #mando

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caseyqdilla · 1 year

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Hello! This is my first time writing a fanfiction, I’ve barely ever written for existing characters, so apologies if this is terrible lol. I had a story in mind so my little goblin had to run with it.

Sorry I meant to add that this will definitely be in more than 1 part!

This is a story based on Stranger Things Carver! Reader x Eddie Munson. Where the reader has to come live in Hawkins after her parents up and leave. No upside down, Jason isn't a dick, and it starts off angsty, but ends in fluff.

Warnings would be swearing, I've got a potty mouth my writing will too. Mentions of emotional abuse, self deprecation, and narcissism. The mentions of emotional abuse and narcissism are brief to establish backstory/explore the readers background.

Without further delay, let the story commence!

Munson's Incentive

He didn't know your name, where you lived, or really anything about you, but one thing's for sure he knew what you looked like. Even in the brief time he saw you. The way the light caught your eye, how your hair bounced as you spoke passionately, he could list a thousand things about you. What absolutely drove him crazy though was your laugh.

He was never one to believe in that love at first sight bullshit, writing it off as a gimmick to sell those cheesy romantic comedies, but damn if you didn't prove him wrong. As soon as he heard your melodic laugh coming from the food court as he was organizing the records for the millionth time at work, his head whipped around. Frantically searching for the face that went with that laugh. Then his eyes landed on you and lingered a bit too long as you looked over seeing him and gave a shy little wave. Eddie swore he saw a slight blush too. "You're gorgeous." he muttered under his breath, unfortunately loud enough for Robin and Steve to hear as they walked in for their shifts.

"Who's gorgeous?" Robin asked with a sly smirk on her face, never having seen the resident metal head do anything except flirt with the cute customers that entered the record store; none of the flirts going further than that.

"Yeah Munson, who's got you of all people smitten?" Steve joined in next to Robin.

Eddie turned bright red and shot up before they could follow where his gaze had been lingering, knowing his friends would try their damndest to play matchmaker for him. As he got up, he grabbed the first record he felt and held it up; boy did he wish he looked at it first though. He proudly held up an ABBA record.

Robin and Steve roared with laughter at how red and flustered Eddie got.

"Well, well, well; I knew this metal loving image was just a façade." Robin joked.

Eddie hung his head in defeat as he put the record down. Sighing, he confessed to his friends, "I'm pretty sure my view on love at first sight just got shattered. There's a beautiful with an amazing laugh in the food court. I heard her and knew, I had to find her." He throws a look over his shoulder as he does a double take. Horror, anxiety, and excitement taking over. "Shit shit, she's coming HERE!" he nearly shouted to his friends. "What do I do? How do I-"

He's cut off by Robin and Steve walking past him in curiosity to the group of patrons that just walked into the store. Anxious to figure out which one has had this effect on their loveable metal head and hoping to help him talk to her. They both welcomed the sizeable group, noting that there were 10 people, 3 were guys and the rest ladies, all of which were pretty.

As they spoke to the group, Eddie went back to organizing the records, now laser focused on the task at hand. Desperate to find a distraction so he didn't make a fool of himself in front of the beautiful girl that look his breath away. When he did chance a look at you, his shoulders deflated as he saw your fingers interlaced with one of the guys that walked in with your group. He shouldn't be surprised. He's never seen you before, he would remember such beauty, so you must be new. His eyes followed the had you were locked with to see Jason of all people. Even never having met you, spoke to you, or knowing you his heart broke.

Seeing the girls hand in hand with the guys Robin and Steve completely ignored them as possible suitors for their shaggy haired friend. As they spoke to all the other girls, they both had their assumptions on who had peaked his fancy.

Eddie knew they meant well, but before they could make their way back over to him, he saw the time seeing that his shift was over he quietly clocked out and left the store. Defeated thinking his heart will never feel this way again. Little did he know, fate had chosen to smile down on Eddie Munson.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #fem!reader x eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson fandon #eddie munson fanfic #carver!reader #eddie munsonfluff #slight angst

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heircurse · 3 months

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time moved in such an interesting way —— and it's funny , just how quick the witty flirtatious back and forths of teasing could result in hot breath when lips became too hungry to continue the game. searching and desperate and temporarily satiated by the found connection [ ... ] with hands that grasped for both sides of her neck for something to hold on to like an anchor. she selfishly absorbed the air from his lungs just the same as the room that now felt smaller and warmer amidst the romantic act of devouring one another with a growing need. but time would inevitably take that away from him as well , though not without replacing it with something he wouldn't even dream of making complaints about.

the contact broke and he almost whined at the loss ; if it hadn't been for hands venturing towards the button of pants , or the sound of metal grinding as his zipper that went with it next. chest heaved with heavy breaths as his gaze watched from equally heavy lids —— and he for a moment considered the sight of her lowering herself before him as the prettiest thing he'd ever seen. the way she'd settle on knees while fingers made work [ ... ] finally tucking beneath waistband to release him of his agony. but the consideration would quickly be booted to second place ; now just beside the sight of her guiding him into her mouth.

for a moment his breathing stops —— caught somewhere in his throat at the initial feeling. cool air being replaced with a wet warmth. and lips already slightly parted would fall even further from grace ; he'll finally remember to suck in a sharp breath between teeth and a hand moved to gently cradle the back of her head [ ... ] an instinctual roll of his hips following. ❛❛ fuck— ❜❜ it escapes him with a sigh as his head lazily falls back , teeth digging into a plush lower lip in an attempt to hold in the more proper moan that so badly wishes to crawl out.

#parvamundi #𝒊. [ 𝓗. 𝙾𝚂𝙱𝙾𝚁𝙽 ] . . . . ᵖʳᵒˢᵉ ˒ ◟ in character.#verse tba / 005.#usfw /#. ope!

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pyrinas-a · 2 years

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@librarywent sent : a kiss after one muse has killed for the other from rams to lenora >:o) / prompt.

SHE SUPPOSED SHE SHOULD BE used to all the things she had been called over the years. a bitch, a dried up spinster, and even a sorceress. crude remarks followed her like her own shadow did. it was the nature of womanhood --- being called awful things by men constantly no matter what you did. despite the years of hearing such terrible things, the sting that came along with the words never went away. the only thing that changed was her ability to hide her displeasure grew and her memory expanded as not to forget anything ever said by anyone.

the random, grimy knight had said that there were prettier horses out in the stable, which earned a gaggle of laughs in response from the few other men in the room --- too many for her to notice who was not hooting with amusement. thin eyebrows furrowed tightly together as she meant the man’s gaze before a hand snatched up her bejeweled goblet, silently nursing the growing flame of anger in her stomach with both drink and gruesome thoughts. she had no experience scalping, but she liked the idea of cutting what she imagined to be lice infested hair from his body and tossing it into a fire.

with her nose buried into her cup, she almost did not notice the seat beside her pushing back and scraping against the stony floor of the hall. brown eyes flickered to see the bastard bolton drifting away from her side like a phantom clad in black. he also reminded her of a hunter in the wolfswood, desperately searching for a kill that would grant him the most meat or the prettiest pelt. she could tell he had a target in mind and that made her mindless sipping stop. lenora was a gawking hawk, ramsay a determined hunter, and the nameless knight they prey.

her eyes widened when she saw a flash of silver. her eyes glimmered almost the same way they had when she had been a little girl sitting in searchlight’s great hall just before she shoved her hands into the crackling flames. she was curious, excited even, her sight never drifting from her new spouse. she could not ever remember anyone coming to her defense before, to say or show that such words were not acceptable. though her dreams of revenge were more dramatic and bloody, the scene of ramsay shoving a knife into the gross man made lenora’s heart speed up, like she had been the one to do the stabbing. it was thrilling to see someone, who had been unsought out especially, perform a kill for her.

for the first time since she saw him heading away from the table, her gaze flickered away from him and to the twitching knight on the ground. she could see blood oozing out of him, like he had been a squashed grape. lenora pushed herself from the table, now set on seeing the man up close, though her eyes flickered back to ramsay. she fancied herself the hunter now and ramsay the prey in the wolfswood. the blonde cared not for the hem of her blue gown that got trailed in the dying body’s blood as she neared.

“ for me ?? ” she asked softly when she was close enough, almost like how any other lady would respond to flowers or pretty gold jewelry from their lord. the man on the floor was a pitiful sight --- all talk in life, but pathetic dying. she could have sworn she saw tears welling up in the corner of his eyes. “ are you trying to relay a message to your men ?? ”

lenora’s words were quiet, making sure that the raven haired man knew that what she said were words only meant for him. thin fingers danced down his forearm to lightly grip the wrist of the hand that held the knife. it was a bittersweet feeling --- she wished she had been the one to stab, but having someone do it seemingly in her honor was a treat of its own. “ or are you telling me something ?? ”

her free hand, the one that did not hold his wrist, crept up to plant itself on his shoulder. dark brown and baby blue eyes were level with each other while noses nearly met at their tips. she found it funny --- only a few moons ago she was repulsed at the idea of touching a bastard ( or anyone, really ) so intimately, yet now she sought out ramsay’s contact after his kill. you are growing weak, she scolded herself. or was she growing strong now that she found someone seemingly so much like her ??

“ i suppose i should thank my husband, ” the blonde sighed, eyes flickering to the now lifeless body at their feet before returning to icy ones. she almost sounded bored, but her heart still beat rapidly against her ribs while adrenaline rushed through her veins. her hand upon his shoulder gave a light squeeze, as if lenora were reminding him it were still there, before letting go. “ is that what you want ?? a thank you ?? ” fingers found themselves in dark hair, even giving a little a little tug as her stare remained fixated on his face, brows pinched together again, as though she were thinking. she let out another light sigh before using her fingers in his hair to navigate the man’s lips to her own.

#librarywent #( LENORA WYCK : in character. )#( LENORA WYCK : answered. )

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enchantestuff · 3 years

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rekindle - rbr sebastian vettel

in which after a long time apart, you and Sebastian rekindle your love for one another in the least romantic place you could think of - a sweaty, packed nightclub

NOT MY GIF!!

warnings: public sex (ofc), fingering, teasing, lowkey angst at the start, nicknames, uncomfy ex, sebastain Vettel deserves a warning himself, happy sinning

taglist: @theringers @forestviper201 @icemanhoneybadger @formulamei @findthelightinyourlife

3.1k words

You smirked as your eyes met from across the club for what felt like the hundredth time that night. You hadn't seen him in over a year, the last time you were even in the same country as him had ended up with you climbing into a taxi, speeding away to the airport and him standing half naked in his driveway, wishing for the car to turn around and end his worst nightmare.

The relationship between you and Sebastsian was a complicated one to say the least. You had grown up with each other, your families vacationed together every second summer and you spent many christmases together. It was only when you got older that you started to really appreciate Sebastian.

Daydreams of what it would be like to spend a night in bed with him began to fill your free moments. Images of the two of you tangled in bed was once something that you could only dream about, but that dream certainly became a reality one unforgettable night in Italy.

It was during a celebratory dinner after yet another win that he had leaned over to talk to you. His lips brushed against the side of your neck and goosebumps had risen all over your skin, you cursed yourself for your reaction but soon began praising your childish antics once Sebastian finally caught onto how you felt about him.

The few words of “do i make you nervous, liebe?” led to the two of you making out in the corridor. That celebratory dinner escalated to a friends with benefits situation which set off a more than complicated relationship between the two of you where feelings were of course present, but stubbornness from both sides refused to let them be out in the open.

Your feelings for one another eventually escaped when he got into a nasty crash in the middle of a race. You ran up to him the minute he stormed into the garage, tears welling in your eyes as you crushed into a hug. He held you with just as much force and whispered into your ear what you had been waiting for months to hear.

He told you that you had been the only thing on his mind when he crashed into the wall and he didn't want to go a minute longer without telling you how he really felt about you

As much as you wanted things to be great with Sebastain, your relationship was unfortunately not plain sailing from there and the media had a bring role to play in your downfall. They wouldn't leave him or you alone, constantly following the two of you wherever you went and even going as far as sending mail to your shared home. It was the media that drove you to leave the man you adored and move to another country in search for a new career and a new life away from the public eye.

You stared at him now, unable to tear your eyes away from his beautiful frame. He looked as good as ever and you knew deep down that you would probably never see him again. So against your brain telling you not to, you engraved every detail of his face into your memory, not wanting to let him go just yet.

You felt horrible for leaving him and strongly believed that he hated you for abandoning him. You wouldn't have blamed him if he did, you sometimes hated yourself for that decision. So you kept your distance from him all night, repeatedly telling yourself that if he did not harbor any bad emotions towards you, then he would approach you himself.

To tell the truth, you were too embarrassed to go up to him yourself, too full of guilt to face him after what you had done. But when he made eye contact with you as he pulled a girl into his body, something inside you snapped and you found yourself being dragged into an all too familiar game of cat and mouse with him.

Your night of teasing had officially begun the minute he kissed the brunette's neck, refusing to break your stare as his hands ran up and down her hips. You decided it was your turn to reciprocate the teasing and pulled a random, but still handsome, man towards you to dance. Holding your gaze with him, you allowed the man to grip onto your hips and sway from side to side. Your ass pressing against him with every beat of the music.

You maintained eye contact with him as he chatted with multiple women, his hands resting dangerously low on their backs as he smirked in your direction, you hated how much you loved his little games.

You decided to take a dance break and stepped away from the claustrophobic dance floor. Moving towards the less packed bar, you leaned against the contour top as you ordered yet another drink. The feeling of hands wrapping around your hips didn’t surprise you, nor did the hot breath fanning across the back of your neck. You were used to the warmth of Seb’s body by now and after so much time apart, you still recognized his touch.

“Quite a show you put on back there,” he muttered, gesturing to the bartender for another drink before turning his attention back towards you. You kept your face forward, staring at the variety of liquor stacked on the shelves as Sebastian flirted with you in your ear. He was still positioned behind you, which you saw as the perfect opportunity to press your ass against his crotch.

The tightening of his grip only fueled you to press yourself further into him in hopes that you would emit an even stronger reaction from him, and boy did you get what you wanted. One of his hands rested underneath your breast and as he emitting a small amount of pressure against you, he forced you into him.

No longer leaning against the counter, you could now feel the entirety of his body pressed against you. Every vein and muscle. Every curve and dent of his body, Still, that didn't stop you from wiggling your bum against him.

“Are you trying to turn me on right now, love, or are you really that fucking oblivous?”

You twisted your head to finally look at him, momentarily taken aback by his pure beauty before regaining your confidence again. “That depends,” you hummed, purposely brushing your lips against his neck as you spoke, “Is it working?”

His hold on you tightened and somehow he pulled you even closer to him, allowing you to feel every inch and vein of his hardened cock. “Someones excited,” you smiled, immediately freezing up when you caught sight of your ex boyfriend standing next to you.

He was the man you had been with before Seb and it was safe to say he had completely broken your heart.

Confusion immediately filled Sebs body at your reaction, fearful he had done something wrong he moved to stand beside you, holding onto your bicep as he looked you in your eyes. “Are you alright, darling?” he questioned, his eyes bouncing back and forth as he searched your face for any indication of pain.

“Yeah its - “

“Y/N! Great to see you.” Dread immediately filled your body at the infamous voice, you felt yourself go rigid in Sebastian's grip and desperately wished for your ex to leave the two of you alone.

“Who's this douche?” Seb whispered in your ear, trying to relive some of your tension and comfort you in what seemed to be a terribly uncomfortable situation.

“Brad, hey,” you muttered, you grabbed hold of Sebastian's hand that was previously sprawled on the bar countertop, using the warmth of his touch as a confidence booster to finally turn around and face the brutal ex.

“How have you been?” he asked, refusing to even glance at the Redbull driver next to you, focusing his hungry gaze on you and you only.

You sighed deeply at his attempt of small talk. Could he not just say hello and move on? Did he really need to interrupt your night.

Sebastian kept a close eye on you throughout your short conversation. A sense of protectiveness filled him at your rigid stance, he knew you could handle the situation yourself but he couldn't help but want to aid you. He felt the need to get involved. So he did.

He didn’t let you answer the man's next question of what you had recently been up to, instead he grabbed hold of the side of your face, his fingers dipping into the nape of your neck as he pulled you into him. He grinned smugly at the worried glance you threw his way before connecting your lips together.

The kiss was hesitant at first.

Taking into account this was your first shared kiss together since the breakup, it felt both natural and unusual to be kissing him again, but as the seconds passed you found yourself relaxing in his hold and began kissing him back with much more force.

You lost yourself in the moment, the idea of your ex boyfriend watching you make out with your other ex boyfriend didn't even cross your mind. You solely focused on the way Sebastian’s lips felt against yours after such a long time apart. He was addicting.

Your eyes fluttered open when he pulled away, blushing slightly at the sheepish look he threw your exes way. “What were you saying, mate?” he confidently asked.

The feeling of his palm burned against your cheek and you couldn't even bring yourself to look at Brad, but you didn't need to as he just stumbled away, clearly intimidated by Sebastian.

There was no need for you to say anything to Seb - if the way you were teasing him earlier on in the evening was of no indication to how you felt about him - then the lustful look you were giving him now certainly was.

He immediately pulled you back into him, your lips reconnecting in a lustful kiss. With no more awkwardness surrounding the two of you, you found yourself enjoying it even more.

Moving one of his hands down your body, Sebastian forcefully squeezed your bum which emitted a gasp from you, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth, further deepening the kiss. He pressed his body against yours and your hands raked across it, feeling his muscles flex against your hands.

You moaned into his mouth the minute he dug his hips into you, the feeling of his body so close to you bringing you back to when the two of you dated. Confusion filled you when he pulled away, ending your lovely make out session and disappointing you tremendously. “Don't start what you can't finish, love” he warned, leaning down to scatter kisses across your chest, nipping and licking at every exposed area.

“Who says I can't finish this?” you remarked, grinning at the way his eyebrows rose at your statement.

“Look around us, darling” he stood up straighter, craning his neck to glance from side to side, taking into account the multiple people surrounding the two of you. Hundreds of people filled the room, hundreds of eyes that could possibly witness something. Hundreds of reasons why the two of you shouldn't get ahead of yourselves. But then again, when he looked back at you and the playful pout that crossed your features - he found himself making up a hundred different reasons as to why it was such a brilliant idea.

“But then again,” he continued, leaning closer to you in order to whisper in your ear, “that's never stopped us before.”

A shiver ran up your spine at his words, images flashing through your mind of previous encounters the two of you had in the most inappropriate areas. Cutting your daydream short, Sebastian grabbed hold of your hand and guided you up the stairs to the more secluded vip area.

The bouncer merily glanced at Sebastian before lifting the red velvet rope and letting the two of you in. Nodding a small thanks to the man, he continued his journey into the dimly lit area, a content hum leaving his lips at the sight of a small booth in the corner.

He sat down on the plush seats and you fell down to sit on top of him, the lower half of your body covered by the wooden table in front of you. Sebastian wasted no time in kissing your neck, unable to detach himself from your skin for more than a few moments.

Your head fell back onto his shoulder, watching the small group of people ahead of you dancing and laughing at each other caused a blush to quickly creep up your cheeks. The thought if anyone witnessing your antics both embarrassing and exciting you.

“Are you sure you want to do this, liebe?” Seb questioned, he placed his finger on your cheek and forced you to look at him as he spoke. “Because once we start, I won't be able to stop.”

“And why would I ever want you to stop?” you shot back, pressing your bum further into him to prove your point. Sebs eyes scanned the area, having seemingly decided the risk of getting caught was worth it, he ran his fingers up your thigh, under your skirt and into your underwear.

His other hand trailed the opposite direction, moving up your body to gently squeeze your breast. You arched your back at the sensation, your ass moving further into him and a harsh squeeze being delivered as a result.

Slipping a finger into you, his hand flew away from your breast to clamp over your mouth, muffling the sudden moan that escaped you. “You have to be quiet, sweetheart. There's people around us,” he reminded.

He littered gentle kisses up your neck and you could feel his smirk against your skin at the shaky breath you let out the minute he slipped a second finger into you. “I don't think anyone else deserves to hear your moans, darling.”

You hummed against his hand, wetness pooling at his words and your eyes fluttering closed as his thumb began to circle your clit. “Move up for a second, liebe,” he demanded once he removed his fingers from you. Having no other option but to comply, you braced your hands against the table and stood up on shaky legs. You patiently waited as Sebastain undid his belt, the sound of the metal coming undone bringing a newfound wetness to your core.

“Ready?” he questioned, moving his hand up and down your thigh to comfort you. You nodded your head, biting harshly on your lip, you quickly glanced behind you and yet another shaky breath tumbled from your lips at the sight you beheld.

Sebastain was sprawled across the couch with his dick barely covered by your body. The sight of him shamelessly sitting there did something to you and before you lost your confidence, you slowly lowered yourself down onto him.

“Keep quiet now,” he reminded once you took all of him in. Your hands gripped onto the table in front of you, your knuckles quickie turning white as you used it as leverage to start moving.

The sound of your skin hitting against sebastians was muffled by the laughter of the crowd and the loudness of the msic booming across the grand club. “I'm trying,” you grunted.

You slowly bounced on him, trying to keep your movements small and inconspicuous to the people around you. But Sebastian could only last so long without needing to take over. A moan accidentally escaped you once he began thrusting his own hips upwards to meet yours. In response to your foolishness, he grabbed a fistful of your hair, yanking not so gently on it as a warning and forcing you to look at the dim lights hanging above you instead of the people ahead of you.

Holding onto your body he quickly steadied you, forcing you to halt your movements as a random man walked up to the two of you. You shifted in his hold and attempted to reposition yourself to look more natural towards the stranger. You just wanted it to seem like you were cuddling the driver, not bouncing on his dick.

One of your arms wrapped around his neck while the other laid on his chest. You spared a quick glance downwards, making sure your skirt covered everything before looking back up at the man. Sebastian greeted him, admittedly not poilelty, but he greeted him nevertheless. It only took a few seconds for the two of you to realise he was a fan and by the looks of it, would do anything to hold a conversation with the Sebastian Vettel.

You couldn't help but move on his lap, the need for friction overwhelming you after staying put for several minutes. You slowly began rolling your hips, your heart racing at the sudden release of pressure and also at the fact you were grinding on him with a fan of his only a few feet away.

Sebastian cleared his throat, trying desperately to pay attention to the man in front of him and not on how good you felt clenching around him. His hips unintentionally runted up into you, muttering a quick curse under his breath he grimaced at the man, cutting his sentence short as he gestured towards you. “If you wouldn't mind,” he sympathetically commented.

“Right, right sorry,” he mumbled, “Enjoy your night.”

He soon scrambled away from view and Sebastian began carelessly thrusting into you again. You returned to your original position, now resting your head against the table, thankful for the pleasure filling your whole body. You could feel a bead of sweat forming on the nape of your neck and were almost certain you looked a mess but you couldn't have cared as you got nearer and nearer to your peak.

This new angle allowed Sebastian to take control of your activities. He guided your hips back and forth, not paying attention to the movement of the table nor the attention that the two of you could possibly bring your way. All he wanted was to bring you to your release. “Are you going to cum for me, darling?” he whispered. You nodded against the table, the coolness of the wood reliving your flushed cheeks as you felt the knot begin to release in your stomach.

You moved your hand to grip onto his thigh, “I'm gonna-” you mumbled, unable to finish your sentence as he gripped onto the back of your neck and forced you to sit up straight. His fingers immediately fell down your throat in a poor attempt to muffle your moans. You whimpered loudly at his show of dominance, your attempts to keep quiet failing profusely as he hurried his movements.

His fingers moved further down your throat as your walls clenched around him. Before you knew it you were spilling yourself against Sebastain. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head and heat filling your body as he followed in your actions.

#Sebastian Vettel imagine #Sebastian vettel #Sebastian Vettel smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 #forumla 1 imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one imagine #formula 1 smut

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violetwishestowrite · 2 years

Text

One’s Deepest Desires (Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader)

summary: ever since reader ( ___ ) caught the second-eldest Bridgerton’s eye, he was desperate for her to see him as more than a friend. This seemed like the perfect relationship with neither wishing to marry, but would their growing desire for one another change their minds?

warnings: swearing, period typical attitudes

author’s note: please leave me any constructive criticism and let me know if you would like me to continue this into a series!

word count: 2.1k

With the start of the 1815 social season in London, it was inevitable that Lady Bridgerton had finally set her sights on her second eldest’s marriage prospects, Benedict Bridgerton. The only problem with this was that Benedict had no plans to marry any time soon, potentially even at all. Now the Viscount, Anthony Bridgerton, had made his match with the eldest Sharma, Kate, and Daphne with a Duke, his Mama’s search had finally reached him.

She had made him stand front-row as the new debutantes floated down the floor to present themselves to the Queen, pointing out all the women she deemed acceptable and, in her words, worthy of his suit. He simply nodded and agreed that each of the ladies were pleasant but he had no interest, a comment his Mama chose not to hear. She had made him promise to attend a number of balls, which he simply would have declined had it not been Eloise’s second season and simply could never leave her to endure it alone, especially after last seasons scandal. So the promise was made.

Thus, later that evening, Benedict was stuck with attending Lady Danbury’s opening ball of the season and many of the newest debutantes eyes were on him. As the Brother of a Duchess and a Viscount, he was being sought out as if he were their next meal’s main course - the prized pig up for slaughter. Against his wishes, he would certainly be slaughtered by the growing flock of Mamas.

“This is my second-born son, Benedict as all you ladies must know,” Violet announced to the other Mamas, and certainly the rest of the ballroom as even more women joined the growing crowd.

“I’m sure I heard Eloise calling Mama, I ought to accompany her don’t you think?” an obvious lie, but anything to get him out of this nest of shrieking Mamas introducing their daughters.

“I’ll tend to her in a moment Benedict, don’t you worry,” she said lightly squeezing his arm in warning.

“You know my daughter Prudence Featheri-”

“Lady Berton, and this is my eldest Charlotte, she is very accomplished in-”

“My youngest, Sarah is far more-”

The introductions went on for what felt like decades, and Benedict was unable to free himself until he came up with an excuse, saying he had to greet an old friend, after his mother had finally left to find Eloise hiding from suitors and was currently trying to pry her away from behind a pillar inconspicuously, which met a great deal of failure and stares.

Taking this as his chance to slip away, Benedict made a quick trip to the drinks table, grabbing himself two glasses of champagne and fled to the terrace. Now looking over the gardens, he hastily downed one glass down his throat and let out a sigh of relief which formed itself into a mist in front of him in the chill air of the night. He felt like a coward using Eloise as a distraction for his escape and would surely hear about it later, but he couldn’t handle these insistent Mamas. He didn’t now how he would cope with the rest of the season.

Taking a sip of his second glass, he jumped as he heard the distant voice of his mother asking about his whereabouts very near the terrace doors. Shit he thought, quickly following the stairs downwards onto a stone path leading around Lady Danbury’s estate, ending at her greenhouse which was being restored; one glass door was boarded and the other broken with, luckily, a large enough gap for him to climb through.

Once inside, Benedict once again felt relief. Confident that his Mama wouldn’t stray this far from the ball in search of him, he pushed further into the overgrowth of ivy, weeds and resilient flowers until he reached what he believed to be the centre. He was met with a grand cracked fountain in the form of men and women on rocks looking into the distance. He hadn’t felt much inspiration lately, since he learnt of the reason for his place at the academy, but the sight before him certainly needed to be captured.

He began to circle the dry fountain to take in the image, sipping what he hadn’t already spilt of his champagne he startled at the rustle of leaves as he continued, dropping the glass which smashed against the stone.

“Fuck!” he heard a woman curse as the glass smashed, making himself startle again. “Oh it’s- please forgive my language my Lord, you frightened me.” she said, trying to hide a burning cigarette behind her.

Astounded, “it’s quite alright,” he managed to reply with a hand on his chest in fright, “I didn’t realise there was somebody else here. Forgive my intrusion.”

“I don’t wish to cause a scandal my Lord, we should leave separate ways a few minutes apart.” clearly panicking, the woman began to smooth out her dress and snub out her cigarette.

“Neither do I Miss?”

“____, ___ ____” she sighed, seemingly relieved but still wary.

“Don’t feel the need to leave, I desire the peace as much as you seem to, let me assure you I do not intend to cause scandal, my family has only slightly recovered from near ruin from last season, I do not wish it again believe me,” he chuckled, calmer now and sat on a stone bench opposite her. He hadn’t seen her at the Queen’s presentation ceremony, she seemed to be the age of a debutante, she certainly held the beauty of a debutant, albeit a little less put together most likely from her escape route.

“You are Lord Bridgerton, I suspect?” she asked, steadying her breath and taking a long inhale from her cigarette. “Would you like one?”

“Yes I am Miss ____, but call me Benedict, I think we’ve gone past formalities given our predicament,” he laughed, “Oh I will take one thank you,” he extended his hand to take it as she lit a match, placing it to the end as he cupped her hands in his to avoid putting it out. “Thank you.”

“Why have you escaped to my haven Lord-, Benedict?”

“I could ask the same of you Miss ____”

“Call me ___”

“___” he smiled, “with two of my siblings married, my Mama has set her sights on my own marriage prospects.”

“Do you have any marriage prospects?”

“Not currently, perhaps never. I am perfectly content in living my life as I please, but that’s not an option apparently for my mother.” ___ laughed, he liked her laugh. It wasn’t put on to be lady-like or polite, but genuine. “And what of you? I assume you’re a debutante, though I didn’t see you at the presentation.”

“Yes I am unfortunately, like you my Mama is set on finding me a suitor but I’m not so inclined.” she sat silently for a moment, contemplating her next words, “I wished for more time to focus on my studies, but as the only child I am expected to marry well. Luckily I am staying with some close family friends who allowed me to miss the presentation, but Mama won’t know that.”

“My lips are sealed, you don’t need to worry” Benedict said, causing her to chuckle with him. It was freeing to have conversation without the assumption of courtship, no Mamas breathing down his neck for a proposal but to just sit with a woman and talk without the expected wooing. He leant back to gaze up at the fountain, the breeze filing the comfortable silence. He once again imagined painting the scene but now with an addition, her. Her casual posture as she glanced towards him, inspecting him, perhaps looking for any sign of mistruth he wasn’t sure but he most certainly didn’t mind. It was probably the alcohol making him be even more aware of himself than usual but he felt hot and flushed. Her eyes travelled down to his neck, making him pull at his cravat (regency neck tie) as she wandered lower. Like her, he took in the sight before him. She wore a pale green dress with subtly embroidered flowers along the hem and sleeves, long white gloves had been removed and placed beside her, exposing her arms to the breeze making small hairs stand on edge. The back he assumed, as he couldn’t see, was most likely ribbons. His mind fled to the fantasy of unravelling each one meticulously, exposing her back as he trailed his fingers down to the end. He wasn’t certain how long he thought about her in that way but she was now clearly flushed as he met her eyes. Like a deep pool that he wished he could paint, swim within, gaze into longer. I’m doing it again.

Nervously he coughed and broke his own eyes away, “I should head back,” he said ,stumbling over his words, “to the lion’s den, my sister is no doubt suffering.” He didn’t wish to depart but he wasn’t sure how long he could stay in her presence.

She smiled kindly, her cheeks reddening further, “well I wish her luck, we’ll need it this season, I hope she can escape the rest of our fates.” Benedict smiled. He rose gesturing to take her hand, lightly kissing the back as a farewell, letting his lips linger a little longer than appropriate.

“It was lovely to meet you Miss ____.” and with that she removed her hand from his and, to his shock, lifted his chin to meet her eyes, grazing her fingers lightly across his neck as she adjusted his cravat to look presentable. He lost himself in her touch, it was as if her hands were in flames which spread down his body, cold as soon as she pulled away.

“The pleasure is all mine Lord Bridgerton,” she replied softly, again taking his chin in the hand and placed a kiss on his cheek. “I hope to meet you again to steal me away from our torment.” Too stunned at her boldness, Benedict rose to a stand bowed his head and left with a smile. The burning sensation only increasing, consuming his entire being in a single touch. He’d felt lust before, by oh my this was far more extreme.

He felt as if he couldn’t breathe until he climbed back through the broken glass door. He let the breeze hit him to wake himself from this encounter but he remained flushed red in colour all the way back to the ballroom. This season would most certainly be unbearable, if he saw her again he knew she could easily draw this reaction from him again. He reminded himself, I am a gentleman, but this woman made him want to cut ties with that statement completely he wanted to be close to her, he wanted -

“Benedict Bridgerton! Where have you been?” Oh no, he thought as his mother pulled him inside from the terrace. “How much have you had to drink? You’re all flushed!” she tutted.

“Sorry Mama, got carried away with some old friends.” he was grinning from ear to ear, but he knew his mother didn’t believe him and he was lucky she didn’t ask again. They would most likely be having a conversation in the morning. “Where’s Eloise?”

“Waiting in the carriage, we best be off now. You were gone for ages, all those lovely girls you could’ve danced with.” she tutted again, starting to list all of her potential bride’s for him and how he missed his opportunity. He paid little mind to his mother’s words as he saw ___ sneak away from the greenhouse just before he was dragged through the door to the carriages. This may be a very interesting season indeed.

As Benedict left, she remained seated but with her hands firmly planted on the fountain’s edge. Placing the black of her hand to her mouth where he had kissed her, the imprint of his lips burning her skin. She wanted to kiss him in that moment but that would only lead to a very compromising situation had he even wanted it to continue. Perhaps she scared him away, was she too direct? What if he does tell somebody about where she was? He could have easily lied to her about his intentions towards a scandal. No don’t be stupid, she told herself, Benedict’s family almost faced ruin and their unchaperoned meeting certainly would solidify the family’s fate.

They were sure to meet again, if his Mama was dragging him to every ball she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her eyes off of him. But little did she know neither would he.

read next chapter here: Chapter 2 (coming soon!)

#bridgerton #benedict bridgerton #benedictbridgertonxreader #benedict bridgerton x reader #netflix #writing #series #romance #Benedict Bridgerton romance

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hxlyhead-harpies · 4 years

Text

Don’t Call Me Kid (G.W.)

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Summary: When her soulmate’s name appears on her wrist on her twentieth birthday, (Y/n)’s heart stings with betrayal when she finds out who it is.

Word count: 2.6k

Warnings: Angst

As the clock slowly ticked towards midnight on the eve of your twentieth birthday, you couldn’t help but feel edgy. Your nerves were tingling and your stomach churned at the thought of what would be revealed on your wrist the moment you turned twenty. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to find out who your soulmate was; you just had no idea who it could be.

There was no one in your life who you felt a strong connection to. No one that gave your stomach the little tug that your parents so fondly described when they told you the story of how they met. And no one had revealed to you that you were their soulmate. You had always hoped that your soulmate was older than you. And that they would find you before you had to anxiously await for a name to be seared into your flesh. But no one had come forward yet. So you went with the assumption that you didn’t know your soulmate.

Of course, there was one person who you had always hoped it would be. It was your best friend’s older brother, George. It was a schoolgirl kind of crush, one that had you writing his last name on your school work and blushing every time he merely looked your way. As a child, you had followed him around like a lost puppy, fantasizing about your name adorning his wrist. But it wasn’t the case. His twentieth birthday had been years ago. You remembered the day very clearly.

You were spending the Easter holiday with the Weasleys, rooming with your best friend, Ginny. She was in your year and you had become fast friends the moment you sat next to each other on the train first year. You and most of the Weasley clan were eating breakfast, anxiously awaiting the twin’s arrival at the table. Fred had been up early, a wide smile informing you all that Angelina Johnson was his soulmate. Molly had clapped and pulled her son into a bone-crushing hug.

Eventually, George had stumbled down the stairs. The bags under his eyes were evident, displaying his lack of sleep, and his hair was disheveled from repeatedly running his fingers through it.

As he stepped into the kitchen everyone froze. Ron’s oatmeal dribbled down his chin as he stared at his brother, impatiently waiting for him to reveal his one true love. Molly’s hand was over her heart and her breathing was shallow as she anxiously awaited for her son to tell her the name of her future in-law.

George looked up to see everyone staring at him and just shook his head, tugging his sleeve farther over his wrist. Molly gasped before pulling her son into a comforting hug and you felt your heart break for him. George’s behavior let everyone know that he didn’t have a soulmate.

It was rare for people to have a blank wrist, though not impossible. Some people were meant to be alone. But you had never imagined that George could possibly be destined for loneliness.

You pushed the thoughts of your old infatuation and focused on the present. It was impossible for him to be your soulmate, the universe had already decided that, so there was no reason to even think of him.

Soon, your wrist began to burn. It wasn’t a terrible feeling; from the descriptions you had heard you assumed it would burn like placing your hand on a flame, instead it burnt like firewhiskey running down your throat. Your eyes watered as the name was carved into your skin, the gravity of the situation finally settling in. You were about to find out who your other half was, the person you were meant to spend your life with. The moment couldn’t be more daunting.

You screwed your eyes shut, not wanting to catch a glimpse of the forming letters until the burning subsided.

When your wrist cooled your eyes fluttered open. You took a deep breath before lifting your wrist up to your face. You read the name. Your world stopped. You couldn’t breathe.

George Weasley

Your mind ran over all of the possible explanations, confused as to how his wrist was blank but yours adorned his name. You came up with only one answer.

Your name was on George’s wrist. But he wished that it wasn’t.

Why else would he go through the trouble of hiding it? Why would he accept the years of pitying looks when he told people that he didn’t have a soulmate? Because he’d rather belong to no one than belong to you.

Hot tears rolled down your face as came to the realization. A moment that should have left you euphoric with happiness, only made you feel emptiness.

It was unfair really, that you had spent years pining after him and years feeling sorry for him, only for him to have been lying to you all along. You had been there when his mother cried for her son and cried for his life of loneliness. You had rubbed his shoulder in an attempt to comfort him when he sulked on the couch for a week. You felt like a fool.

As your mind began to remember all the moments where he had the opportunity to tell you the truth, you only became angry.

Because how dare he keep this from you. You were supposed to be his other half. You quickly wiped away your tears and apparated to the front of his shop.

It was a few minutes after midnight and the shop had been closed for hours. But you knew that he was up there in his flat above the store. You just hoped that he’d be able to hear you bang on the door from all the way up there.

After a few moments of relentless pounding, the door flung open.

“Bloody hell do you know what time it is?” Fred asked as he swung the door open. He caught sight of you and his mouth dropped.

“(Y/N)!” he said, a stunned expression on his face. You crossed your arms.

“Go get George,” you said, letting a small amount of anger to seep into your tone. Fred cast his eyes to the floor. The look he gave you let you know that he knew exactly why you were here. He had been in the same room as George when their soulmates had been revealed. He was probably the only other person in the world that knew about you.

“(Y/n) don’t be mad at him,” Fred said quietly. You scoffed and shook your head.

“How do you expect me to not be angry,” you asked incredulously. Fred just sighed and opened the door wider to let you in.

You hadn’t been inside the shop in years and under better conditions, you might have been able to appreciate the beauty in the chaos of it all. Even in the after hours inventions whizzed past your head.

“I’ll go get him,” Fred said before squeezing your shoulder and climbing up the stairs.

You nervously waited for him, suddenly regretting your decision to show up so abruptly. You hated that you could be so rash at times.

“Happy birthday,” a soft voice called out, interrupting your thoughts. You turned to see George staring at you from the top of the stairs, an unreadable expression on his face. You stiffened at the sight of him, instinctively wrapping your arms around your body as if to shield yourself from him. But that didn’t stop yourself from feeling drawn to him, as if the universe was tugging you towards him.

He slowly descended down the stairs, stopping a few feet in front of you. You stared at the floor, unsure of how to begin.

“(Y/n)...” he whispered softly, coaxing you to meet his eyes. You spoke instead.

“How could you?” you asked, your voice shaking. George let out a sigh.

“You have to understand. I couldn’t tell you,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“What is that even supposed to mean George?” you asked, “I was right there in your kitchen that day. You could have said something.” George shook his head.

“I had my reasons and you just have to trust that,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“Am I really that horrible?” you questioned, “so horrible that’d you rather lie and say that you didn’t have a soulmate than admit that it was me.” Your voice cracked. George shook his head and stepped closer to you. He lifted his hand as if he wanted to reach out to you, but he retracted it at the last second.

“That’s not why,” he said softly.

“Then why?” you pushed, angry that he wasn’t telling you what you wanted to know.

“You were just a kid, (Y/n)!” he said, desperation filling his voice. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What does that have to do with anything?” you asked softly.

“(Y/n) you have to understand… You were sixteen! You were my little sister’s best friend and you were still in school! And I was older and I had the shop!” he explained. You shook your head.

“You still could have told me,” you whispered. George groaned.

“No, I couldn’t! I was out fighting with the order and you weren’t even old enough to use magic outside of school. You were a child,” he explained exasperatedly. You felt your face harden.

“What about now?” you asked bitterly.

“Huh?”

“What about now,” you repeated, “I’m not a child anymore and after everything that happened, I haven’t been for a while. You could have told me at any point over the last few years and you didn’t. Why?” George froze, clearly unsure of how to answer. You felt tears rise to your eyes at his silence, taking it as confirmation of his rejection. You took one last look at him and stormed out.

Two weeks later you’re standing outside the Burrow. Ginny and Harry’s engagement party was in full swing but you had no desire to be there. Sure, you wanted to be there for your best friend, but you knew George would be there and you weren’t ready to face him. He hadn’t attempted to contact you in the time since you’d seen him and the rejection stung. So you stuck to the same lie that he had; you told everyone that you were soulmateless. You took a deep breath and fiddled with the leather band that covered George’s name and stepped inside.

The Burrow was loud and bustling with people. Family members and school friends filled the space, leaving barely any room to breathe. People shot you sad smiles as you pushed through the crowd, all of them having heard of your predicament. You ignored them as you searched for Ginny.

Eventually, you found her near the kitchen, leaning against Harry, his hand on her waist. Your smile dropped for a moment, jealousy rippling through your body. It was the kind of quiet intimacy that you wanted with your soulmate. With George.

Ginny looked up and caught your eye, making her way over to wrap you in a hug.

“There you are!” she exclaimed, “it’s not like you to be late I was getting worried.”

“Sorry about that!” you apologized. Ginny just shook her head and dragged you over to where she had been standing. She snaked an arm around Harry’s waist, jumping right back into the conversation.

Harry was talking to Fred and Angelina about quidditch when you arrived. You sent them a quick wave and Angelina sent you a warm smile. Fred sent you an apologetic look which you ignored. You tried to immerse yourself in the conversation but you kept catching yourself scanning the room for George. You felt Ginny nudge your shoulder.

“You alright?” she whispered just loud enough for you to hear. You sent her a quick smile and a nod, hoping to convince her that you were fine. You subconsciously pulled your sleeve down farther.

As the party wore on you couldn’t seem to spot George. You didn’t know why you kept looking for him, it was obvious that he didn’t want to see you anyway.

You made your way into the kitchen, hoping you could pour yourself a drink. As soon as you stepped in you froze. There he was, leaning against the countertop, a glass in his hand. His eyes met yours and his body tensed. He seemed to be in just as bad of shape as you; he had evident eye bags under his eyes and his clothes were rumpled and unkempt.

You sent him a polite smile before grabbing a glass from the cabinet. You walked across the kitchen to where the bottle of firewhiskey was sitting, which was, unfortunately, very close to George. You reached for the bottle but you were interrupted by him grabbing your wrist. You looked up, shocked, only to see him staring down at the leather band that covered his name, running his fingers over it.

“I’m so sorry,” he said quietly, his breath fanning across your face. You pulled your wrist back.

“Whatever George,” you replied, “it’s in the past now.” George screwed his eyes shut and ran a hand over his face.

“But what if I don’t want it to be in the past,” he whispered. You stared at him, your mouth agape.

“What?” you whimpered. He reached for your hand again and you let him hold it.

“I don’t want to pretend that it never happened,” he said breathily, “I don’t want to pretend that we aren’t made for each other.” You scoffed slightly.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” you asked, bitterness seeping into your voice. George lifted your hand up so it was resting on his heart. You could feel it hammering in his chest.

“When I first found out that we were soulmates I didn’t tell you for all the reasons that I said. We were at different stages of our lives and I didn’t want to spring that on you. But then… But then as you got older I just- I didn’t know what to say. How could I tell you something like that after hiding it so long? I spent so long trying to figure out how to tell you but then time just caught up with me and it was too late,” he said, a new intensity in his eyes.

“George…” you whispered. He shook his head and spoke.

“Let me finish. Please,” he pleaded. You nodded your head. “Every time I saw you, you became more and more beautiful and more and more as I had always imagined my soulmate to be. You laugh at my stupid jokes and you always know what to say and you’re so much smarter than me… I couldn’t hope for a better other half than you,” he finished. You stared into his warm eyes, trying to decipher if he meant what he said. You could still feel his heart racing under your hand and his eyes were slowly filling with tears.

“Please forgive me,” he breathed. Without thinking you leaned up on your tiptoes and kissed the corner of his mouth. You stepped back, removing your hand from his heart and wrapping your arms around yourself. He stared at you, shock written all across his face.

“You’re my soulmate, George,” you whispered, “I can’t stay mad at you forever.” George smiled widely before stepping forward and scooping you up into a hug.

“Thank you,” he muttered into your hair. The two of you stayed like that for a moment. Your body flushed against his, his hands wrapped around your waist and yours slinked around his neck. When you pulled back you spoke.

“I understand why you didn’t tell me at first,” you admit, “I was just a kid.” He brushed a strand of hair from your face.

“But you’re not anymore and I should have told you sooner. I’ll never forgive myself for the years I wasted without you,” he said softly. You smiled shyly at him, seemingly returning to the schoolgirl crush that you had harbored for years.

“I’m glad it’s you,” You said. George smiled at the ground.

“I’m glad too.”

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