#I never thought anyone would ever want to marry me bc of all the problems I face. but being with him is just. everything. I am so happy

[coquettecowboy]

I picked out my wedding dress today 🥺💕 so so so happy and grateful and excited!! It looks even lovelier in person! @mywaysthehighway took the pics (and my heart lol 🩷) he/they

#my post #nonbinary #wedding dress #wedding #morilee #t4t #I never thought anyone would ever want to marry me bc of all the problems I face. but being with him is just. everything. I am so happy #there aren’t any words. #ty to everyone who leaves nice comments <3

[chrollohearttags]

Requests open? You don't know what you unleashed

It's that time of the month and I've been craving reiner like a mf (side note is it just me or do you crave human touch sm but at the same time the idea of any male rats Ik irl touching me, repulses me)

Anywhooooo if you don't mind the idea of reiner being such a simp for you, showing you sm love and affection stretch marks and all after a rare (inwardly not so rare) day of feeling like shit 🥹

Or reiner throwing you around and slapping you in the face with his dick, I'm easy

(Side side note: I also been having this viral thought of Reiner having a girl And he cheats on her with you constantly, sometimes practically in front of her face, telling you how your better and he will leave her and she can't satisfy him like you can, if you don't like that kind of stuff ignore 🤠)

frennn, omg why are we just alike?! 😭 ovaries be jiggling like a mf, begging to be scrambled but I wouldn’t dream of letting those creatures near me. but ask and you shall receive! 🫶🏾 I literally love allllll of these so much, I have no idea which one to choose. I can’t stop thinking about, him more so than usual slsksks 😫😭 so ykw, we bout to combine all three LMAO! (mainly bc I love the idea of Reiner being a scumbag)

themes + such: infidelity, slight angst, rei is an asshole (not to you! 😭)body worship, pussy eating, reader has stretch marks/slight dysmorphia, body shaming, soft to rough sex, full nelson, daddy’s used, he picks reader up

WHEN SHE’S NOT AROUND

“Rei…wait, we can’t do this..”

“And why not? Who’s going to stop us?”

“No one and that’s the problem..”

the constant back and forth between two lovers, ensued among the fray of dishevelment and lust..lust that had driven you both to the point of no return. Truth be told, you had no good reason to be together. Nothing good would come of this in the long run and yet, here you were…lying in the bed of another woman, with her man’s hands roaming your body. His lips latched onto your nipples and his fingers plunged deep into your aching center. Riding them to bliss as you cried out his name; echoing the walls of her home..it was a disgrace and yet, you couldn’t pull away. You couldn’t let him go..and he felt the same.

“Please..don’t try to pretend like you actually give a shit about her..” His voice seemingly mocking you..it certainly wasn’t his normal demeanor but the one thing you had come to accept about Reiner is that he was not perfect. Not by a long shot…he was certainly not some perfect gentleman that checked all of the boxes. He was handsome, successful, alluring, one hell of a lover but he wasn’t yours!..not even close. That much signified by the silver band on his right ring finger. Married to the girl you despised more than anything. You’d never hated anyone in your entire life but that snooty little blonde bitch was a shoe in for the first spot. Make no mistake, you weren’t afraid of her; more so she was intimidated by you and the thought of fucking her husband unbeknownst gave you a thrill like none other. But your conscious was heavy with thoughts of karma..how things would play out for you guys in the long run..what if he decided that one day he no longer wanted you and by some weird circumstance, decides to make it work with his wife? You’d be out and no one could feel an ounce of pity. You were the adulterer, the harlot, the side chick, mistress..but you were the only one he wanted.

“..because I don’t. Matter of fact, I hope she walks in here right now. I wanna see her face while I’m fucking you..” the deep tone in his voice rattling off into a laugh. Suddenly, he’d tug those thick digits out and shove them between your lips. Allowing you to pacify and taste yourself…watching you become so salacious for him never grew old and it wasn’t something he was ready to let go of. Not now and not ever!..meanwhile, he’d kneel to the floor, caressing your thick thighs in an attempt to quell you. “Did I tell you how beautiful you look today? Hmm?…I feel like you should know that..” that deep southern drawl feeding you those sweet nothings, curling your toes at the sound. He could stay here forever, with you and no one else. Staring into the warmth of those beautiful brown eyes...the truth was, you hadn’t been feeling your best. You worked in the same building as his girl and as one of the lead makeup artists, for the brand that she and many other modeled for, it was difficult seeing women that looked nothing like you garner all of the attention and praise. Not to mention, hearing their snide remarks on the slick about your body type..about how you and others were not a fit for the pieces; literally and figuratively. You were used to it..working in the upper echelon came with discrimination on at least five different levels. But you let it roll off of your back. However, you were having a rather off day. Honestly, the last thing you wanted to do was to be weighed down with the tension of knowing you were sleeping with someone else’s man. That was until you were gifted an anonymous bouquet of flowers..you had no question who the sender was and when he sent you a text message asking to see you, you were glad to accept. Now here you were being spoiled in more ways than one. “You know I love you too, right? You’re my everything..” “Yes, Rei..I love you too..”

Currently, his lips were latching onto your clit, hands firmly planted on your thighs and clawing into them. He needed to taste you..consume your scent and flavor until he was full. That’s the way it was with Reiner..he was a selfish man. Downright gluttonous and he’d have his cake and devour it too! “Good…because I don’t want you to take it personal when I fuck you like a whore tonight.” Smirking up at you and causing you to chew at your lip with a wide smile. Just then, he’d toss your leg across his shoulder and begin the rapid ascent into feasting on your cunt. It wasn’t long before those juices were trickling down his chin and you were trembling. You could’ve jumped from your own flesh at any minute. The way his tongue lapped at your bud, delicately navigated your folds..prodded your entrance..no one treated you better. Hence why his wife would simply have to share. “Oh fuck!…yes, Rei..right there..”

he knew that you were exactly where he wanted you..and there was no way he was letting you go until he got what he desired….suddenly, he’d pull away with his mouth only to quickly substitute your pleasure with his fingers whilst he spoke to you. Feeding you every positive affirmation he could think of…complimenting your beautiful smile down to your legs; rubbing them gently. He didn’t just admire you, he practically worshipped you. Leaving kisses on those stretch marks displayed across your pudgy tummy. He loved all of it and thought that you should do the same. He was adamant in letting you know there was nothing for you to be ashamed of. “You’re so fucking sexy. Trust me..she’s not even half the woman you are. Never could be, baby. The next time she says something, just think about the fact that you have the one thing she doesn’t..” he’d declare, proceeding to spit onto your folds and continue licking. Not once did he break eye contact because he wanted to see all of the expressions that came across your face..he was right. She’d brag and boast about her husband who loved her so much to anyone who’d listen. That was at least in the public eye..however, behind the closed doors of a dressing room, crying into the arms of her best friend, she’d confess that he hadn’t touched her in months. That he seemed distant and cold and she was worried about an affair. Your kind nature couldn’t bear harboring such a secret but the side of you that wanted revenge for watching that bully’s abuse to other girls; bragging about her appearance, wealth and everything else she could flaunt as an adolescent, up into adult hood…you were enjoying this. You wanted the bitch to suffer and quite frankly, see her man getting fucked by the very type of woman she swore she was superior to!

“Lay back f’r me, sweetheart and put those fucking legs up..”

By this point, Reiner’s entire demeanor had seemed to shift. He was still very much hungry for that delicious nectar but he was done with the sweet, charming, innocent demeanor. Quite frankly, it couldn’t come soon enough. You needed him to take what was his! To be dominant, aggressive and pound every single ounce of tension from your body. You were sopping wet with a linear trail of slick, seeping down your slit and he had just the plan to add to the mess. Quickly standing to his feet, he’d take the place of your palms and squeeze the supple flesh of your thighs..he’d already previously undressed so when he came up, that erect cock did along with it as well. He was aching for you..so much so, the only way he’d be able to gain relief was to bury himself inside of you. That’s when you’d feel him lob a trail of spit onto your folds before rubbing that tip against you…you couldn’t handle another moment of being teased so luckily…

“You’re about to get all of this dick, I hope you know that..”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing…take this pussy. Fuck me..”

..he didn’t make you wait long! A moment later, you’d feel that tip split open your folds and enter your warmth. It felt damn near divine being inside of you. He practically trembled; cursing aloud when he was met with the sensation of your walls constricting around him. This was all he wanted, all he needed and he’d be content as long as he could have you. “This pussy’s so fucking tight…goddamn, she never feels this good.” Chuckling to himself because he couldn’t believe just how starkly different his experience was with you and his wife. Oftentimes, he found himself bored or not even remotely aroused. She’d complain that it was too much or that she couldn’t fit it all the way. She didn’t like to do any of the nasty things you preferred and when it came to giving him oral sex, she downright refused. Just recently, he stopped trying altogether and always claimed he was too exhausted for sex. Meanwhile, he was buried balls deep inside of you every chance he got!

“Mmmmph, take it, baby. Keep fucking me, just like that..”

Whimpering as you rubbed your clit..stroking that bud slowly..your gaze was fixated on his, a smile on both of your faces as he nestled every inch into you. His strokes were consistent, deep and a little fast. He couldn’t be vexed to take it slow tonight. He needed to give it to you the way you deserved. “Who’s pussy is this, baby? Huh? Tell me..” questioning as he grasped for your ankles, placing gentle kisses along your instep and growling into your skin. He wasn’t letting up for anything. Not until he was damn well satisfied..

“Y-yours, daddy. Oh my gosh..”

crying out with a frail whimper as his pace sped up. Chewing at your bottom lip, you’d push at his abs to feign him off but that only did more to fuel his desire to wreck you. Instead, you found yourself hoisted up mid air and cradled in his huge arms. Being propelled up and down on his cock as he slammed you down onto it. Reiner was a brick house of a man, courtesy of all the years he spent playing football. With the bank account to match. By all accounts, he lived the dream life that so many sought after…millions in his account, large, picturesque home and a model wife but the one thing that alluded him…the one person he desired most was right here.

“Fuck….it should’ve been you, baby. It was always supposed to be you. You’re the one that should be wearing that ring, my last name..you should have her life.”

his words becoming far more enunciated, filled with much more passion and aggression..he craved you so badly he could feel it every fiber of his soul. He’d do anything to keep you around..no matter the cost. Clawing into his back, (y/n) cried out his name and let him know that you mirrored his sentiments and that regardless of titles, rings or legalities, he belonged to you! The only one who’d truly ever love him..

“I’m not going anywhere, I promise..”

#cherry’s asks 🍒 #aot x black reader #cherry’s sweetpeas 🍒🌷 #black fem reader #black reader #reiner braun #reiner braun x black reader #reiner braun x reader #plus size reader #aot au #football player reiner #black reader smut #football au #aot smut #aot drabbles #aot headcanons #reiner headcanons #reiner braun smut #reiner braun headcanons #reiner x black reader #reiner x reader #reiner braun fic #snk smut #snk au #snk headcanons #attack on titan au #attack on titan #thank you for this request fren!! I’m sorry it took so long 😫🙏🏾 #cw infidelity #queued posts

[eve-was-framed]

okay this is gonna be a bit of a long rant (with some SA and CSA mentions so pls don’t read if that will be too much for you rn) but I’ve been thinking a lot about the “male loneliness epidemic” lately and I have some Thoughts ™

we live in very isolating, depressing and scary times. we live in a hyper-individualistic capitalist hellscape that seems to punish people who need community support. and I truly believe that we as humans should try to help each other out in the ways that we are able to.

but I lose 100% of my empathy for lonely depressed men when they start using their own personal issues as an excuse to peddle ideologies that advocate for rape, pedophilia, child marriage, sexual slavery, and even murder of women and girls. I don’t fucking care how sad you are, if you advocate for other humans beings to be subjected to the cruelest treatment possible then you either need to get serious help or die (and not take anyone with you when you do).

you do not have a fucking paramount on suffering. you are not the only ones who experience loneliness. I know you think women get to just pick and choose whichever romantic partner/friends we want, but that is false, and also being seen as nothing but a sex object by men is so incredibly isolating too. that’s not real love and connection, that’s only being valued for what we can provide for men. so many people feel so alone and it genuinely is a big problem.

I was raised in an extremely misogynistic cult that preaches that grown men are not responsible for anything they do to little girls bc “they’re wired that way.” I had very bad things happen to me before I was even old enough to realize what it meant. and you know what the excuse always is? “well it happened to him when he was younger too so he can’t help that he does it to you.” I learned very early that male suffering is viewed as more important than the suffering they inflict on innocent people. and despite going through this, despite seeing nearly every woman in my life go through something similar, despite all of this, I still would never ever sympathize with any ideology that preaches rape, slavery, sex trafficking, pedophilia, white supremacy, etc. and that doesn’t make me some super hero, it makes me a mildly normal person.

so no, nobody “pushed” you into your evil ideologies, nobody made you do that. if true suffering at the hands of the opposite sex is really the root cause of inceldom then almost every single woman I know would be the most insane incel you’d ever meet in your entire life. but they’re not, even though many of them are lonely and long for true companionship, none of them feel so angry and entitled to it that they want to murder and rape men or little boys. not a single one. the root cause of inceldom is, and always has been, male entitlement. men who were raised to believe the world and every woman in it exists to serve them in some way, but then grew up and realized that actually nobody is owed sex and you don’t get to force women to marry you and have kids, because we are human beings who deserve to be happy too. and this makes them so mad that they start thinking it’s okay to do whatever they want to whoever they want, because after all, nobody on planet earth could ever suffer as much as incels do when a woman tells them no.

I’m fucking sick of it. stop saying “they pushed me to this” and start taking even an ounce of accountability for your deranged, entitled mindset.

#radblr #radical feminism #radical feminists please touch #radical feminist community #I cooked here tbh #male entitlement #male violence #tw csa mention

[player1064]

kate for someone reason thinking jamie is homophobic not sure why or how but she does (sara has me obsessed with the idea that they can’t stand each other now lol) and then him introducing her to gary and she’s like 🤯 ft. micah in the corner like you didn’t know he never shuts up about him???

god Kate and Jamie literally CANNOT STAND EACH OTHER!!! I'm OBSESSED with that dynamic tbh!!!!!!! As always. this one is much longer than intended...

Also, don't need to have read it but this is technically intended to tie in to my fic Happy wife, happy life (but tldr Jamie regularly calls Gary his wife partly to keep their relationship under wraps but mostly bc. he finds it funny to call Gary his wife.)

---

“Obviously we’re done for the season right before pride month kicks off,” one of the CBS producers is saying, eyes darting over something on an iPad. “And since you four have been pretty popular we were thinking of including you in some of those ad campaigns, so if I could just get some dates off of all of you –”

“No,” Jamie says immediately.

All three of his colleagues snap their heads up to him, but only Kate looks at him coolly and says “no?”

Micah, because he’s Micah, chuckles and slaps Jamie in the shoulder, trying to diffuse some of the new tension in the air. “Not like you to turn down extra cash, Carra.”

Jamie rolls his eyes, pretends not to notice the way Kate’s eyes are burning into him. “Check my contract. Wish I could, honest,” he says to the producer, feeling very very glad that he had a clause added to his contract specifically so that he doesn’t have to take part in things like this, “But it just wouldn’t be do-able. You lot ‘ave fun, though, with yer rainbows and yer glitter.”

Kate just looks at him incredulously. “This is one thing you decide to take a stand on, mister ‘I don’t care about politics’?”

Rainbows just don’t really suit Jamie, is the thing. Nor does the extra scrutiny that comes from wearing rainbows.

Doesn’t really matter to him what Kate thinks of him, though, so he just shrugs and continues packing up his stuff for the day.

*

“Jamie – Jamie, I finally got onto Raya, can you have a look at my profile?”

Jamie looks up at Micah with a frown. “What the fuck is a Raya?”

“It’s a dating app,” Kate says from her end of the desk, in that unimpressed tone of hers that makes Jamie wonder why she’s bothering to insert herself into the conversation at all.

“An exclusive dating app,” Micah corrects, wiggling his phone in front of Jamie.

“Weren’t you already seeing someone?” asks Jamie, but he accepts the phone with a sigh and puts his glasses on. “I don’t – I’ve never used one of these things, what am I meant to be lookin’ at?”

Micah shrugs. “Didn’t work out,” he says breezily. “How have you never used a dating app, you’ve not been married that long. And look at yourself, you can’t tell me you weren’t a player before Mrs Carra came along.”

Jamie had got around a bit, in his playing days. Not much, mind, because he’d had to be careful, but he’d done alright. Unfortunately – and this is not something he’ll ever admit to anyone, even under duress – any thoughts of that had gone out the window the moment he’d walked onto the Sky campus after retiring.

“You’re right,” he says with a wink, “look at me. As if I’d need an app to find myself a bird. Why’d you want me to look at this, I’m not exactly your target audience. ‘less there’s somethin’ you’re not tellin’ us,” he adds, elbowing Micah and waggling his eyebrows.

Kate looks on unimpressed as the two of them double over in laughter. “Not that any of us would have a problem if you were, right Jamie?” she says haughtily.

Jamie catches Micah’s eye and has to fight back another bout of laughter. “Dunno,” he says, “I can think of one or two problems I’d ‘ave if Big Meeks here suddenly tried hittin’ on me.”

Micah bursts out laughing again, his hand clapping to Jamie’s forearm, and Jamie can’t help but join in – it’s infectious, okay?

“God,” Micah says, wiping a tear from his eye, “can you imagine how your missus would react. I’d never be able to work in television again.”

“Nah, she’d prob’ly send you a fruit basket, thank you for taking me off ‘er hands.”

Kate clears her throat and the two of them sober immediately at the sight of her raised eyebrow. “Maybe cool it with the outdated banter,” she says, “or do I need to remind you boys that you’re not in a dressing room anymore?”

She storms off, he heels click-clicking away as Jamie and Micah look at each other and try (and fail) not to start laughing again.  

*

“You didn’t want to bring your wife to the end of season party, then?” Kate asks politely, looking slowly around the room.

“Huh?” Jamie says eloquently, because he’s had a couple of glasses of prosecco and he’s not thinking as quickly as he usually might. “Oh, the missus. Yeah, she’s here but  – I dunno, she’s a bit shy, like. You didn’t invite Malik?”

Kate rolls her eyes, the way she always does when Jamie mentions her boyfriend. “Well, he lives in America. So.”

“Carra,” an annoying voice calls from just behind him, “Carra, come over ‘n meet Schmeichel? I’ve not seen ‘im in years, d’you know, I think I’d forgot how tall he was.”

Jamie puts a hand on the small of Gary’s back to keep him from bouncing around too much (the man is such a lightweight, it’s embarrassing), and says “I’ve already met Peter, you dolt. I work with ‘im, remember?”

Gary squints at him for a second. “You drag me all the way down to London, and then y’can’t even be bothered to –” he finally seems to realise that Jamie had been talking to someone, because he quickly shakes his head around a bit and holds a hand out to Kate with a smile. “You’re Kate, right? I love what you do on the show, honest, I’m always sayin’ people need to be meaner to James here.”

Jamie thinks he sees Kate blush a bit, like she hadn’t realised anyone else had noticed her dislike of Jamie, but she takes Gary’s offered hand anyway. “And of course you’re the famous Gary Neville, I’ve heard a lot about you,” she greets. “But aren't you still with Sky? What brings you to our little operation here?”

“Scopin’ out the competition,” he says with a wink, then turns back to Jamie. “Carra – Peter?”

“I said no! I’ll talk to him later, stop badgerin’ me.”

“Did you two travel down from Manchester together?” asks Kate, “You know, Jamie seems so invested in my relationship but none of us have ever met his wife, do you know where she’s got to?”

“Ah, his fuckin’ wife,” Gary mutters, smirking up at Jamie. Jamie winks in reply and slips his hand down a bit to pinch him on the arse.

Micah comes over, his tuxedo strained against his biceps, and he pulls Gary away from Jamie to throw an arm around his shoulder in a half-hug.

(Gary squirms a bit at the unexpected contact, but he still gives Micah a friendly pat on the chest.)

“Big Nev! It’s been ages, man – Jamie told us you were coming, but he’s promised that before and not delivered.”

“Been pretty busy, up in Manchester,” Gary says with a shrug, carefully extracting himself from under Micah’s arm and returning to Jamie’s side. “But I’m obliged to do the plus one thing at least two –” (“Three,” Jamie corrects,) “—fine, three times a year, and I figure there’re worse places to be.”

“Aw, you love it really,” Micah says. “I’ve always kind of wondered what it’s like to be a WAG.”

Gary rolls his eyes. “It’s a thankless job, to be fair.” He pokes Jamie in the bicep and adds “I’m going back to talk t' Peter, you miserable old twat. Honest, I’m always talkin' to Scousers fer you.”

“I already know –” Jamie starts to protest, but Gary’s already wandered off. “Ugh. Sorry about ‘im. You can’t take Mancs anywhere, can ya?”

The two Mancs he’s talking to look at him, unimpressed.

“He seemed nice,” Kate says carefully.

“He’s not,” Jamie replies.

*

“Good summer?” Micah asks, their first show back after the break.

“Brilliant,” Jamie replies with a grin. “It were my turn to choose the destination, so –”

“Ibiza?”

He nods. “Ibiza. The house was done just in time, too.”

“You know, I can’t really imagine Gary in Ibiza.”

“Oh, he hates it. Complained the whole time, but he does that wherever we go.”

He becomes aware that Kate is watching them from across the desk, not trying to hide that she’s listening to their conversation with curiosity. Jamie nods to her, all polite like. “Hows about you, Kate, good summer?”

“It was fine, I –” she shakes her head. “Sorry, you’re saying you go on holiday with Gary Neville?”

Micah scoffs. “Who else would he go with?” he asks, and Jamie points to him in agreement.

“I dunno, his wife?”

Jamie blinks.

He thought he’d got all this out the way, dragging Gary along to the party a couple of months ago. Apparently not.

“Gary is my wife,” he says, then suddenly feels very stupid saying that to someone who’s not already in on the joke, so he corrects to “my husband, I mean. Obviously he’s not – he’s a man. Obviously.”

Kate’s eyes are wide, unblinking. She looks between Jamie and Micah, lips pressed together while her brain seems to be buffering.

“You’re married to a man?” she says eventually. “But you’re not gay, I mean – you’re –”

Jamie, who last time he checked definitely was gay, raises an eyebrow, amused. “I’m what?”

“You’re a footballer,” she attempts, and oh, this is far too easy.

“Bit ‘omophobic, that, sayin’ footballers can’t be gay,” he replies, holding back a smirk.

“Oh shut up, you know what I – you’re a lad! You’re always with the banter, and the…”

Thierry wanders over, freshly brewed cup of tea in hand. “What have you two done this time?” he asks, looking pointedly at Jamie and Micah.

Jamie raises his hands to protest his innocence.

“Thierry,” Kate asks, reaching a hand out towards him, “did you know Jamie’s married to a man?”

Thierry rolls his eyes. “Ugh, fucking Neville,” he replies, and goes to sit down.

#thank you for the prompt I LOVED this and also. I've been waiting for an excuse to write more for that fic so heheeee here we are #carraville #drabbles #also in this universe since i never got into it in the main fic or in this drabble. jamie and gary got together after valencia #except it was more like a weird situationship/fwb thing for years and then they spent lockdown together and when things opened up were like #'hey why dont we get married lol'. and now are very happy together (always insulting each other) #wife gary saga

[vaguely-yandere]

CHAMI tell me if you ever get tired of reading my long ass rambles AND ALSO don’t feel obligated to respond to it w somethjnf super long urself i know ur busy and it’s time consuming </3 IM JUST LETTING MY THOUGHTS OUT

anyways. WHAT ABOUT A ROYAL YAN AU??? or. you know what i cant decide who should be who so i’ll give you a couple scenarios bc im indecisive and i actually cant think properly ever so:

1. a yan whos next in line for the crown, oldest of all their siblings, someone who is meant to take over soon!! they’re getting hundreds of letters from noble men all over the country, trying to sell of their sons/daughters to their majesty!! royal yan ofc, doesn’t give one shit, instead, they’re in love with this one butler/maid/worker who occasionally bring them their meals, dress them, etc. etc. yes, you!! you’ve always felt like your majesty always payed extra special attention to you, always requesting you to accompany them through town, or maybe on a walk through the garden; even helping them during their bathing time (eek!!) but ofc, the queen/king would NEVER allow their candidate for the throne to marry a commoner, they have too much pride for that. cue royal yan possibly killing them off if they don’t let them do so?? they were getting old anyways!! this yans biggest problem is figuring out how to show their absolute devotion to you, despite them being expected to run an entire nation!! they might just have to ditch the crown and run away with an unsuspecting you <33 ANYWAYS THATS FORBIDDEN ROMANCE VER. 1

2. this time YOURE the royal, and yan is the servant!! maybe you’re not next in line for the throne, but you’re still a high ranking noble, who’s expected to marry someone of your stature. perhaps servant yan is your personal maid/butler; someone who wakes you up in the mornings (not without staring at you for a bit <33 youre just so cute when you sleep!!) and delivers your tea (they loooooooove watching you enjoy the small cakes and tea the kitchen prepared!! they made sure they had all your favorites plated <333) and someone who helps you bathe!! you insist you’re fine on your own, but they’re always there to make sure you don’t “drown in the tub”, which is funny since they never seem to be able to make eye contact with you as you wash up!! they’re always bright red, looking away nervously. honestly, why even bother asking to stay?? (it’s so that they can make sure no one else helps you out when you’re looking all sweet and vulnerable like that!!) a butler/maid yan who shreds any letters asking for your hand in marriage, only relaying the “necessary” messages to you. someone who will do their best to keep you their master forever, keep it you and them, your most loyal servant, FOREVER. it doesn’t matter if you feel like no one wants you, if no one’s asked you to marry them, if you’ve become a social outcast in the noble scene!! servant yan will always be there for you… and they’ll get rid of anyone who dares try to disrupt the dynamic you two have together!! AKA FORBIDDEN RKMANCE #2!!!

3. a noble yan whos sibling is the crown prince/princess, and who’s fiance (you) is someone they want. it’s just so unfair. first their sibling gets the throne, AND they get this sweet perfect fiance to be engaged to!! they don’t even love you that much, not as much as noble yan could!! it could be that their older sibling and you are deeply in love, it could be that you two aren’t!! it doesn’t matter. noble yan will view it wrong no matter what, you should be with THEM instead. they try to do anything to call off your engagement with their sibling so that they can swoop in and take you for themselves. of course they’d never want to ruin your reputation, but if spreading rumors is what they’d have to resort to in order to make you theirs, they might just have to do it. luckily, marriage standards for royal children other than the one next in line for the throne arent AS strict, so they could easily marry you even after your engagement was called off with their sibling. if anything, you should be grateful a noble, a member of the royal family no less, still wants you after all those mysterious, nasty rumors were spread about you!! hehe FORBIFDEN ROMANCE #3!!

4. and lastly. (i know it’s been a lot STAY W ME HERE!!) a NON forbidden romance between a noble yan and a noble you!! they just do their best to court you, sending over flower bouquets, writing love letters, gifting you jewels and land in your name. you’re unsure of how to react to such a passionate suitor, but you can’t help but like the attention!! i could see this route being the most healthy (if you could call noble yans obsession healthy) out of the 4, since you and noble yan stand on equal ground in terms of social status!! maybe this route will minimize conflict <33

probably not though, since noble yan is still, well, a yan.

- sunny!!

YANDERE SERVANT YANDERE SERVANT YANDERE SERVANT!!!! they dress you, they feed you, they tuck you in at night, they bathe you, they read to you, they are basically a second skin! raised together since birth, they love you and would do anything for you! getting you whatever you want, making whatever you want, killing potential suitors, all the normal things! ehehe just imagine how hard it would be for a yandere to be the one to always wash your back and hair for you and help you get dressed every day!!!

aaaa i love all of these ideas and i could NEVER grow tired of your long asks!!!! <3333333

#sunny darling #asks #yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere x y/n #noble yandere #servant yandere #noble darling #servant darling

[grits-galraisedinthesouth]

COWARD LIAR BULLY

-Violet von Westenholz

-The Marquess Marchioness of Cholmondeley

A bully cannot face the people she hurt & abused. In Meghan's case, we watched her mistreat the family she never had, royal staffers and ordinary British people. A friend's parent from her childhood said "she has sharp elbows" and we watched her elbow her way through the United Kingdom just long enough to become infamous. A smash and grab operation that makes her no better than the radicalized teenagers who are being used to terrorize America's cities.

She suffers from a severe case of Princess Catherine Derangement Disorder. Watching the Prince and Princess of Wales receive the honor they are due while she and H are boo'd by thousands would be almost unbearablw and in her best victim voice "such a cruel chapter."

I'm reminded of the MM who after oyw invitations and various product marketing opportunities, was such an ungrateful witch that she even refused to make eye contact in a very small cafe with the woman who made it all possible, Gina Nelthorpe Cowne.

If she were to attend the Coronation, we can just imagine her seething through that rictus grin while watching (from the nosebleed section of the Abbey) as two (2) of the honorable families she betrayed are rewarded for their loyalty and friendship.

1st-Violet von Westenholz, daughter of Camilla's longtime friend and newly appointed "Companion." Despite meeting Harry through Soho House & Markus Anderson, Meghan pursued Violet for an RL "modeling" opportunity at Wimbledon bc she needed to manipulate Violet into serving as her reputable "matchmaker." During the engagement interview Meghan lied again: "SHE (violet) said SHE wanted to set us up"🙄

2nd- The Marquess & Marchioness of Cholmondeley, parents of Charles' Godson Oliver, page of honour & Lord in Waiting.

Meghan planted the fake affair rumor into the suckit squad to hurt William & Catherine's reputation and to pay back the BRF for the envy she felt watching Harry escort Rose at a formal event. She intentionally tried to destroy 2 families with lies & innuendo. On twatter, via her aliases, mm would threaten William with more malicious attacks on Kate if they still refused to support her in the press. These are just a few of her schemes so just imagine what must be written in the bullying report.

During the engagement, household servants would overhear things and report them back to "R." I certainly sensed mm was a mean girl, but thought there was no way she could be so vile. 5+ years later, it was all true and the worst was yet to come.

Although Meghan ignored Gina in Edinburgh, Gina still gave a classy interview on the day of the wedding, and I believe she watched as Meghan & Harry drove around Windsor.

"The Telegraph today reported claims members of the palace PR team "body blocked" ex-advisor Gina Nelthorpe-Cowne from coming into contact with Meghan during a visit to the Social Bites cafe in Edinburgh. Instead, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne posted a photograph of her former friend on social media from yards away."

Imagine how Gina must have felt after everything she did for that girl mm refused to even say hello.

"A former aide today told the paper: "Anyone from the past was a problem." They added: "Meghan likes to move on". When contacted by The Telegraph, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne declined to comment on the incident.However, she has previously spoken of her declining friendship with the duchess after she married Prince Harry.Writing for the Mail on Sunday in 2020, Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne wrote: "When, recently, I found myself in the same room as her, she pretended not to notice – stage-managing it so that Harry spoke to me instead.Meghan has made a habit of 'moving on' to better things. And I doubt that will ever change."She also claimed she had warned Meghan, 39, of what life would be like married to a Royal but said the future duchess replied "Save it" with a "steely manner".Ms Nelthorpe-Cowne's name has also previously appeared in court documents - accusing Meghan's friend Jessica Mulroney of "putting pressure on her to withdraw or change statements" she made in an April 2018 interview with the Mail on Sunday."

February 13th

"The couple meet with staff at Social Bite a business that runs social enterprise cafés throughout Scotland, distributing 100,000 items of food and hot drinks to homeless people each year. The business also employs staff who have experienced homelessness themselves.The couple take a tour of the cafe kitchen."

"The final straw was when MM blanked her in Edinburgh, which was a public humiliation and a bridge too far. The KP staff & Harry body blocked Gina from greeting mm. Meghan then used Mulroney to bully Gina into withdrawing her story in the paper. Adrian Sington bore the brunt of a two-hour haranguing from Jessica Mulroney, which he later described as being very unpleasant."

Lady Elizabeth Lambart, was one of the late Queen's bridesmaids at her 1947 weddingLord Oliver Cholmondeley, 13, son of David, the Marquess of Cholmondeley, and his former model wife, Rose, will also be a page of honour. 

Oliver’s father was recently appointed to be the King’s Lord-in-Waiting – a significant royal role in which he will be invited to attend important state and royal occasions. 

In 1974, the Marquess of Cholmondeley, as Earl of Rocksavage, was page of honour to the late Queen, before becoming Lord Great Chamberlain from 1990 to 2022.

Meanwhile, the Marchioness of Cholmondeley's maternal grandmother, the late Lady Elizabeth Lambart, was one of the late Queen's bridesmaids at her 1947 wedding.

The family - which also includes Lord Oliver's twin brother, Alexander, Earl of Rocksavage, and his younger sister, Lady Iris - live at Houghton Hall in Norfolk, which is just four miles from Anmer Hall, their friends', the Prince and Princess of Wales's, country retreat.

Despite the nasty rumors, The Cambridges attended church with the Cholmondeley family.

Her so-called matchmaker "friend" didn't attend the wedding.🤔

#gina nelthorpe cowne #rose hanbury #violet von westenholz #megxit #meghan markle is a bully

[lindszeppelin]

okay so yesterday the twitter hive got into a frenzy over V posting *checks notes* ...for posting.... *double checks notes from confusion* .....darla the dog that Austin left with her when he went to go film for Elvis.

no but fr they're heated over it. they are also assuming she was shading him with a post she reposted to her story about not giving things energy but like..that literally could be nothing but a regular post. ppl were saying things like "she never deserved him" and just really being whiny little bitches about it. personally, i don't really like V but saying something like that about a relationship you weren't in and know actually nothing about is wild, no!? it's giving unhealthy levels of parasocial relationship. they don't even like her— how did anyone see her STORY? when i thought to try and offer a different perspective i just figured it was for nought bc it doesn't seem like any of them would listen to reason. i don't give a shit she still has the dog...clearly he doesn't care. shouldn't they be more mad at that then anything? "it was his MOTHERS dog!!1!!11" yeah and they were together for a decade, i'm sure he just thinks Darla was in better hands with V🤷🏽‍♀️, especially once he started doing the press tour/award campaign run for Elvis–he was barely home ever! i don't get the anger, it's petty and misplaced and immature and (maybe even naive?) to think she's(V) evil or some sort of horrible person for this one act. let me reiterate: they were together for a decade!!! im sure after his mother passed they took care of the dog together for the majority of their relationship so in my eyes, Darla is as every bit Austin's as she is V's.

and it's very obvious they are ASSUMING she was shading him rather than idk looking the other way(or never looking in her direction in the first place bc they do not like her anyway so why disrupt your own peace and happiness for THIS?) and pretending like she doesn't exist. or simply being levelheaded and logically thinking. i have to routinely pull myself back farther away from fandoms in general bc honestly i've never really been too deep into them for this exact reason— ppl just get a tad bit too creepy and weird for me. and this moment is making me wanna leave entirely..it's almost making want to like her again too out of spite for those ppl(almost, babes, almost lmao). it's just...icky to me is all. anyway, all this to say: thoughts? lol.

i don't like vanessa for many reasons, but the shippers will always think that she's shading him for no reason. this bitch is married, like...she has MOVED ON from austin in all kinds of regards. and like i said before, people will interpret things in their own personal way and that can be a curse. from my perspective, that quote vanessa shared TO ME read as "okay guys hang it up, i have moved on and everything is okay. let's just move on from this narrative".

also idk about the discourse surrounding darla and stuff but listen, if austin was perfectly fine leaving darla with vanessa after all this time then cool. he trusts her with his mother's dog. i mean clearly vanessa loves darla and i see the pics she posts with darla. cole seems to be a good surrogate dog dad to darla too from what i can tell. so...there is no problem here.

#lindsay's anon asks

[artinandwritin]

I'm kinda curious about your HTTYD ocs and their relationships w each other and all the art you've done w them. This is a kinda vague ask but basically can you just info dump to me about your ocs bc I love seeing people's original characters so much like

!!! I love this!!! I almost never get to infodump so omg thank you for this ask!!! <333

Alright, let's start with Siri, Niv, and their whole family. Luckily I have a family tree picture to make it all a bit more clear :D

Let's hope it's visible enough to read lmao-

Okay so quick info on Siri's family, aka the Vínteri family; they're a branch of the Hofferson family, which makes Seer a distant cousin to Astrid. The Vínteri's are bakers, Siri's dad, Felix, being the one currently holding onto the bakery (after his death he passes it on to his youngest daughter, Lilja).

Siri herself has a pretty good relationship with most people in her family! No traumatic childhood or anything, her parents love her very much (even tho Felix has very high expectations of her so their family's status could be heightened, mainly having to do with wanting her to marry into a well-off family) and she and her sister have a very teasing, but trusting bond. Besides that, she looks up greatly to Astrid and as a kid strives to be more like her, but that fades as she gets older and grows in her own personality.

Now onto my favorite relationships in the family tree; Siri with her kids. Her son, Niv, was born when she was only 22, almost 23, just over half a year after she and Gustav got married, and was a few months premature. Due to this and other circumstances, poor baby boy was believed to have passed merely two hours after his birth. However, he had miraculously survived since Siri and Gustav had no idea that premature births can cause breathing problems and accidentally gave him a funeral while he was still alive. Happens to the best of us. Baby boy was adopted into an assassin tribe and grew up completely traumatised, as this tribe was a brutal environment for kids.

However, after his return almost 14 years later, he finally got to have parents who loved and supported him through everything! Siri did feel really bad and saw herself as responsible for all the bad stuff that happened to her son tho, which caused her to try extra hard to be a good mother for him. She gently coached him into a steady lifestyle, taught him how to knit and talked to him about everything and nothing. Niv felt extremely grateful for that; she never judged him for any of the things he had to do while in the assassin tribe, and introduced him into the family he never had. He got very close with Siri's mom, who helped him break down the wall he had build around him.

When Siri was 27, she had her first daughter after having had trouble conceiving for years. Thus, her baby girl, Sunniva, was her everything. She had lost Niv already, she wouldn't lose Sunni too. While Sunniva was a daddy's girl, she adored her mom very much and would often ask Siri to read books to her or to help her bake cookies. Everything the girl wanted (within reach), she would get. Siri went out of her way to provide for her daughter, keeping her close to her as she was afraid of losing her too.

When Niv returned, Siri was only months away from having her second daughter, Helene. Sunni was 10 at the time, overjoyed to have a sibling, and while Niv was a bit uncomfortable at the thought of a small child at first, he quickly warmed up to his baby sister, getting to pick her name.

Sunni and Niv grew to be partners in crime, both having a good set of brains and a lot of opinions. They would often shittalk together as they got older or dissing their dad for the fun of it. However, they also did their best to keep Helene (who was a little rascal and could not sit still) out of trouble as she was very into pranking.

Siri absolutely spoils her kids, loving them more than she had ever loved anyone - her family is the only thing she would actually throw a punch for. The siblings are sometimes pretty impulsive and Siri couldn't adore their little antics more than she already does <3

Anyways, that's on Siri's family! I love them a lot as you can see lmao and I would love to talk about them more! While Siri is actually just a gateway to Niv's story, she does have her own hijinks she gets up to in her teenage years when she joins the Auxiliary with Gustav. Stuff gets wacky real quick lmao.

Thank you so much for the ask!! <3333

#how to train your dragon the hidden world #how to train your dragon oc #how to train your dragon #httyd #oc #art #httyd oc #how to train a dragon 2 #astrid hofferson #gussiri #gustav larson #siri vínteri #rtte #race to the edge #dob #rob #oc x canon #artinandwritin's lore

[imsoglitter]

Hi kate! Idk if you’ll see this or answer but I wanted to send bc I’ve been following u for awhile and see u as sort of a big sibling/mentor that reminds me that it gets better and one day everything will be okay :’) do u have advice on how to move on? I’m femme and had my first ever kinda relationship w a butch and it was nice but they abandoned me on my bday celebration after blowing up on me saying that I was too high maintenance, materialistic, sparkly, and pink and my emotions were “too much to process” and “my presence was unhealthy” 6 months later they’re engaged to another femme who is more slow living and earthy. sucked a lot bc from day 1 they said I WASNT too much and that they would never leave. Idk I’m not sad I dont wish I was the soon wife but I’m convinced now that I’ll never find anyone bc all butches/mascs at the end of the day want that & I’ll be alone 4evr. I noticed all of my butch/femm couple friends are kinda same the same (earthy, natural, no glitz or glamour, etc). Feeling v high femme camp antics essay rn and having trouble coping. I tried changing my aesthetic and being minimalist but it put in deep depression so idk what to do. I’m unlikeable to all the ppl I’m attracted to but fitting in to be likable makes me want to kms. Any thoughts or ideas?? Hope this doesn’t come off as trauma dumping 😖

Hi anon! I don't know if I'm the right person to answer this bc I'm definitely a lazy femme who doesn't have the energy to be high femme, and the advice I'm going to give you is something you've probably heard a million times before.

If someone dislikes you enough to dump you on your birthday, you are better off without them. This goes for any other special occasion as well. The first time I got dumped, they very politely waited until I got back from a special trip I was on so it wouldn't be ruined, and I'm really glad for that. It made everything amicable and we're still penpals to this day. It sounds like your ex was bad at communicating the problems they were having in the relationship, given the blowup, and reacted pretty immaturely tbh. That's not the kind of person you want to spend your life with. (I'm also very wary of people who get married after less than a year of knowing each other, but that's a separate issue)

Honestly the best advice I can give you, and you're probably going to hate this, is take a break from looking for a sexual/romantic relationship. Focus on the other relationships in your life, whether they're with friends or family or even coworkers. And spend time with yourself. Definitely don't change everything about yourself to be with someone because you're going to have to live with yourself your whole life. The most important person to like you is going to be yourself. If you want to change think about expanding rather than dumping everything and picking something new.

And on the topic of finding someone who will love you the way you are, your best goal is to be patient, and to take action when you feel ready. Don't settle with someone who tolerates you or you'll end up like my parents (bad). And if you feel like there's potential, don't be afraid to make the first move. Pining is fun until it's not anymore so it's better to skip that part sometimes lol

Practical speaking here's my advice:

Delete your dating apps for a while

Get yourself a vibrator

Go to the movies by yourself

Pick up a new physical hobby like gardening or woodworking or cooking, something you can touch

If you hate your new hobby drop it and try something else

Try a new restaurant you've never been to before

Go for a walk/sit in a park weather permitting and birdwatch

And if you're seriously suicidal, take inventory of yourself and see if you can come up with a plan to avoid that headspace. Therapy and meds helped for me, but the main thing was moving out of a toxic environment. Plus I'm not stupid enough to pretend that therapy fixes everything all the time

I guess I'm saying you should date yourself, but trying to not make it sound super corny lol. I hope this helps and I hope you can figure out how to get out of your rut. I'm rooting for you!

[dopaminergicaddictions]

3/14/24

12:02 a.m

Something I've noticed as a change for my constant auditory hallucinations is if I listen to chatter aka TV or podcasts or even sometimes when I'm in, "silence," is I hear it like, "screaming" it isn't louder. It's not really a scream.... in volume. It's more like an inaudible, "ahhhhh" like it wants to talk and can't verbalize. It has the same voice. I have been hearing it since the beginning of March.

I assume that is the voice "devocalizing." Like I said it's not loud... or louder. It's def not intelligent, creative or persuasive. It's not getting any quiter than a whispering echo though... it's the same volume but it's this weird, "ahhhhhhhhh" it's clearly trying to talk bc it's the same voice but it's unable to vocalize.

It's also like sometimes it can be really repetitive and I can focus on the screeching of the air conditioner the natural sound and I can turn the voice into the screeching making it sound like it's saying what it is saying but it sounds more nature and its easier to ignore, however I really have to try to do that. It takes focus and effort.

The voice is excessively repetitive and lacks intelligence. It's only intelligent when it repeats my internal monologue. Which it does like 50% of the time, it used to more. I have more quiet thoughts. I feel like that, "ahhh" is truly devocalization occurring. Maybe I'll recover one day but I'm not holding my breath.

I just wish i could meet someone be proven wrong that soulmates don't exist. And just love their children. Feel wanted, needed, be helpful. My hallucination would drastically lessen if I was not isolated and if I was surrounded by people. I've been trying to be social so I don't hallucinate as much, also I don't expect Kristen to lose her license. I don't expect to find a partner. I don't expect to recover. I expect to overdose tbh. It's coming. Especially if Kristen gets her life of luxury when I lost my ability to sit in silence and feel internal peace.

I'd say being a voice hearer was interfering with my ability to find someone but truly I don't even get through the swiping part... none of my personality is getting considered. I took trans off my profile, cause I'll never find someone with that at the top of my bio. Idk what I got to do to pass the swiping test.

I've given up on thinking Elise is my soulmate. What do I think?

She loves her husband, they are happy. I'm happy for them both especially her. I think she cares deeply about me and would be my friend but can't bc of professional constraints that will eventually not be a problem but for now they are. I expect I'll hear from her in 2 years minimum. Maybe 5 years maximum. I expect I may never hear from her.

I still love her, I still think she's my soulmate but not really cause soulmates don't exist. If soulmates existed she would be getting a divorce. If soulmates existed she would message me the only way she knows how. I expect if anything she's going to be my friend eventually and it'll be some insignificant nothing relationship. If I ever get married which won't happen cause no one would be stupid enough to do that, maybe she will be at my wedding smiling. I don't expect her to ever be my girl. I don't expect her to show up.

I do believe we had something special and i believe we may at some point in the future if I'm still here. I don't expect it to be romantic but I don't expect it to be fulfilling. My expectation is she will be like Katelyn or Tee. A BFF but it won't fill this hollowing aloneness anyways. I'll only have that filled by a partner.

I realized to not be delusional at all, I can't expect her to show up. I can't even think she has feelings for me. It's even delusional to believe she cares about me genuinely. I'm going to be delusional in that regard. I remember her eyes and idc what anyone says. I know she cares still. However I have accept the harsh reality that her caring about me does not mean she's ever going to know me personally. The harsh reality is, she's going to live her life where she is, and I'm going to live my life where I am and I'm going to hope and dream she shows up for me. As the months go by I'll cope with abandonment. It's something I'm used to.

I won't dislike her. I won't resent her. I'll root for her silently over here and hope she's happy. That's all I can do.

[honeypiehotchner]

“aren’t you going to thank me?” (Hotch x Fem!Reader) -- one shot

Nothing like coming back with a smut one shot am I right? 🤪🤪🤪 Happy International Women’s Day here’s Hotch eating you out

Prompt is from @multiverse-mxdness​ cm discord writing challenge!! I had too much fun w this

Warnings: oral sex (f receiving), I honestly don’t think there’s much else unless you count Hotch himself as a warning (I do), ofc there’s the slight power dynamic bc he’s your boss

WC: 1,185 (I wrote this in like 15 minutes WHAT)

Going undercover was not exactly on your bucket list, especially not as your boss’s wife. 

This unsub is targeting couples at mixer events, and unfortunately their type has been exactly you and Hotch. You had no choice but to agree. 

It’s not that you’re uncomfortable, no, it’s nothing like that. You’re more than comfortable, and that’s the problem. 

You have a raging crush. On your boss. Did you mention he’s your superior? And it’s totally against some unspoken workplace rules to like him or anything further? 

“Y/N?” Hotch knocks on the door. “Are you ready?” 

You had come back to the hotel to change. You needed to be in a red dress, and Hotch in a red tie. 

“Yeah,” you squeak out. “One second.”

You adjust the seams of the dress, fix the collar and smooth out any random wrinkles. It’s one of those dresses you pack as a backup, but is never a first choice for an outfit. You don’t hate it, but you don’t love it either. 

It’s time. 

Slowly, you grab your purse and head to the door, opening it to reveal Hotch. He changed out of his grey suit and into his black one, complete with a red Gucci tie that Rossi gifted him one Christmas. 

He looks hot.

“Wow.”

You think for a second that the word left your lips, but it didn’t. It was Hotch. 

“Thanks?” you laugh. “Are we undercover already?”

“What? No,” he shakes his head. “I’m sorry. You just— You look really nice.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, suddenly bashful. He’s never one to comment on anyone’s appearance, unless of course, Reid gets a haircut. “You too,” you offer, wanting to say it anyway, but now feeling as though it sounds cliché. 

“Thank you,” Hotch chuckles, dipping his head. “Ready?”

As you’ll ever be.

~ ~ ~ 

You hold onto Hotch’s arm like a wife would, leaning into him every few seconds as you both mingle around the event. 

You’ve been married for almost a year. Dating for two. Vacations on the beach are a must. Work hours are crazy. You work even though he makes enough to support you, and he supports your decision to work. 

It’s all so blissfully domestic and too good to be true. You’re going to bask in it for as long as you can, knowing after tonight it’ll all be gone. 

Hotch can sense the unsub approaching, so he squeezes your arm lightly to let you know. 

They approach with a smile, offering you a glass of champagne that you turn down. You and Hotch go through the general details of your relationship, each of you studying the unsub’s expressions as you speak.

The unsub looks for unhappiness in the couples, though, so the one saving grace the two of you have right now is that: happiness.

So, to prove they’re the unsub, you decide to grab Hotch’s face, and kiss him. Right on the lips. Passionately.

Immediately, the unsub recoils, and storms away, clearly angered by the trick you just played on them.

When you pull away, you lift Hotch’s wrist to your lips to speak to Morgan. “They’re headed your way. Definitely the unsub.”

Morgan responds letting you know he heard you -- and saw that kiss.

You drop Hotch’s wrist, knowing Morgan will give you hell for that later, but for now, you’re on cloud nine.

“Aren’t you going to thank me?”

Hotch quirks an eyebrow. “For what?”

You scoff. “For saving your ass!” You playfully smack his chest, unable to hide your smile. 

“Oh, is that what that was?” he grins. “I thought you just wanted to kiss me.”

He’s your boss, your brain reminds you. But you can’t stop the words from tumbling out of your lips. “Maybe it was a bit of both.”

Hotch pulls you in by your waist, and your hands return to their place on his shoulders. 

“In that case,” he says quietly. “Can I kiss you this time?”

You nod. “Yeah. Of course.”

He presses his lips to yours firmly, kissing you like he’s been starving for years. 

“I think,” he says, pausing to kiss you again, “I need to thank you properly.”

“Mhm,” you agree, kissing him again. “How are you going to do that?”

He grins, and you kiss his smile. “I can think of a few things.”

~ ~ ~

Just twenty minutes later, you find yourself being carried bridal style into Hotch’s hotel room. He sets you down on the bed and returns to the door, locking it and putting the Do Not Disturb card in for extra precaution.

“Have you thought of how you’re going to thank me yet?”

“Oh yes,” he grins, grabbing both your hands and standing you up. “And it starts with helping you out of this dress.”

You turn around, silently giving him permission to unzip you. He does so slowly, tenderly, his fingertips brushing your exposed skin and his lips leaving kisses in their wake. On your shoulders, your neck, your cheeks. Everywhere he can reach, even your arms.

He kneels as he pulls the dress down, smiling when it reveals what he had suspected. No underwear.

He helps you step out of the fabric and toss it away, gazing up at you with heated eyes. He takes your hand and kisses each finger, your palm, and your knuckles. 

“You okay?” he asks.

You nod, holding his cheek. “Do you mind if I lay down instead?”

“Not at all,” he smiles. “I want you to be comfortable.”

Once you’re lying on the bed, a pillow underneath your hips, Hotch returns to kissing every inch of your skin. Up your arms and over your collar bones, up your neck and across your face. You’re in a blissful state, just lying there, cherishing this feeling unlike any other.

“Can I taste you?” he asks suddenly.

“Yes,” you reply instantly, whimpering when he presses an open mouthed kiss to your breast.

His lips travel down your stomach. You’re practically aching for his mouth to be on you, and he knows it. He still takes his time. He wants this to be special.

You taste like Heaven and he can’t get enough. His arms wrap around your legs, pulling you into him. He breathes into you, groaning when your hands find their place in his hair, tugging tightly. Hips bucking, you cry out when his tongue delves inside of you. He’s chasing your release more than you are; he’s desperate. He needs to know the taste of you when you let go, when you see stars in his arms, at his mercy.

It doesn’t take long. With a tongue like his and a fire inside of you, it takes mere minutes. You aren’t sure. But you explode.

He soothes you as you come down, breathing hard and shaking, yet still aching.

After a few more kisses, his lips travel upwards again, over your belly button, between your breasts, to your mouth. 

“Thank you,” you say, still trying to catch your breath.

“Thank you,” he replies, putting his weight on either side of you, pressing his body to yours, soothing your shakes.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch smut #hotch #hotch x fem!reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds smut

[yesimwriting]

The Promise of Rain

A/n finally writing that Kaz Brekker x reader angsty-fluff where the reader is all sunshine-y and Kaz is dramatic as always lol 

Might make this a blurb series bc i like this dynamic so much lol

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x sunshine-y reader 

Summary: After a mission gone wrong, Kaz has a conversation with the reader (who’s a runaway princess) about what happens to people who stay near him. 

-- 

He once said that he didn’t believe in Saints. A moment later he conceded that perhaps they existed in order to appease Inej, but he was quick to tact on that if Saints existed they didn’t care about him. Inej and I had exchanged a look, she pleaded with me in silence to let him be. I opened my mouth despite the look in her eyes, but he had walked away before I could get any words out. 

He believes that the Saints don’t care about him, but as soon as he was dragged in by Jesper, bleeding and more broken than usual, it had started to rain. The rain is a promise. The rain is a sign that he will wake up. 

I tap a finger against the forgotten book on my lap, ignoring the dried blood I’ve been too anxious to wash off. When Kaz wakes up he’ll either scold me or partially tease me for waiting here by his bedside. The rain continues, cascading down invisible hope. 

“Save your prayers, even for you the Saints won’t regard me.” Kaz. His voice is raspier than it should be and his slight condescension is blighted by the tired flatness of it. But it’s him. He’s speaking. 

I tear my gaze away from the window, almost forgetting to tamper down my relief before finally looking at him. I haven’t known him long enough to see him in any level of defeat, but I’ve heard enough stories. The fictional exaggeration of those that fear him have made him seem so immortal. Some part of me must have internalized that because to see him like this, to see him so human is too intimate. 

“Don’t be so narcissistic.” Something about Kaz always leaves me feeling challenged, like each comment is some kind of dare. I adjust my posture. “I wasn’t praying because I knew you’d be okay.” 

His expression is unchanging. “So much faith in me?” 

There’s a soft edge to his words, an attempt to twist some kind of awkward denial out of me. Some days I don’t think Kaz enjoys anything and then other days I think he enjoys any misstep in my words. 

I shrug, pushing down the flood of relief still attempting to crawl out of my chest. “You’re always okay.” I scratch the back of my wrist idly. “It seems the safe bet.” 

“Don’t tell me you’ve been taking gambling advice from Jesper.” 

I half roll my eyes. “No--Jesper and I don’t play together anymore.” I let out an easy sigh. “Last time I beat him he bordered on a hissy fit.” There’s the slightest hint of upturning at the corners of his lips. “I should go tell Jesper and Inej you’re awake.” 

“I think you should change out of that dress first.”

He was more likable when I thought he might die at any second. “Wow--Kaz Brekker the professional stylist.” He has no right to judge the formal gown I’m in. Yes, my outfit is ridiculous, but I’m only wearing it because the Crows needed someone they knew at a merchant’s party for a part of some scheme they wouldn’t share the details of with me. “Yes, I’m aware that this dress is more tulle than anything else, but I’m only wearing it because I was helping you.” 

I wait for some retort about how he could have managed without my assistance or some kind of comment about how I didn’t need such a large dress to flirt and distract the guards as the Crows snuck into the merchant’s private office. “You fit in there more than you said you would.” 

From anyone else, I’d consider this an insult. “I was making an effort for the sake of your plans.” 

“I saw you before I went into the office, you knew the dances, the man took your hand.” 

That’s the weirdest observation I’ve ever witnessed someone reflect on. “That’s how those dances tend to work.” I don’t hide the confusion in my expression. “How much blood did you lose?” 

Kaz’s piercing gaze drops to the blanket on his lap. “Not a concerning amount.”

“Why do I feel like we have different definitions of ‘concerning’?” 

His eyes flit upwards, a partial smirk playing at his lips. “We define a lot of things differently.” He pauses, “You defined the life you slipped into so easily tonight as something you could never do.” 

“I can’t.” What is his problem? “One dance is different than an eternity of planning teas and marrying some man who only keeps me so I can rear his children.” 

“You’d end up marrying someone who could give you things.”

He better not be implying I should be having children. I’m seriously starting to hope he did lose a significant amount of blood because that would be some kind of explanation. “I don’t want anyone to be giving me children right now, but I guess your concern is ni--”

“No, no,” he screws his eyes shut for a long second, “You know what I meant.” I stay silent. “You’re technically a princess, y/n, you could have more than the Barrel.” There’s an odd silence as he pauses. “Someone like you should have more than the Barrel.” 

He speaks like his word is law. That’s the one habit of his I can never seem to forgive. Is Kaz telling me to go home? To go back to a mother who dreams of marrying me off and a father with a temper that often leads to violence? He may be Dirtyhands, but he is no one to tell me who to go back to. Not after I risked my anonymity to get him into that merchant’s office. 

I shut my book and stand in one swift motion. “I’m going to tell Jesper and Inej that you’re awake.”

“Y/n.” I ignore him. “Y/n.” Again, I ignore him, approaching the doorway. The rustling of sheets leaves me frozen, hand on the doorknob. “Y/n.” 

Without thinking, I turn on my heels while glaring. There’s no way he’s proud enough to have climbed out of bed wi--and he’s standing. Standing almost directly behind me. 

“Kaz Brekker, I am going to say this one time and one time only.” I keep my words measured and my tone flat. No room for argument. “You just had nine stitches put in near your heart, get your ass back in bed before that is no longer your only injury.” 

He pauses, lips pressed together into a tight white line. And then his mouth opens, pried open by an oddly light sound. Did he just--Did Kaz Brekker just laugh? He doesn’t laugh. I didn’t think he was physically capable, and now he laughs while I’m threatening him? I should hit him on principle alone and damn the consequences. 

“Did you--” I’m gaping at him with a rage I am not accustomed to. “Did you just laugh?” 

Kaz is quick to shut his mouth. “You did swear you’d get me to laugh one day.” 

Saints--now he chooses to have some kind of sense of humor. “Not while I was threatening you for being an idiot after saying my lineage means that I’m meant to be trapped in the life I desire least.” 

“I didn’t say that.” I raise an eyebrow. “You don’t deserve more than this because of your family, you deserve more than this because--” He cuts himself off with a sharp sigh. “Do you remember what happened the day we met?” 

He had wanted to return me to my father for the money. I had managed to convince him I could be more useful working for him without profit. The first day had been tense, I had sworn to myself that I would hate him forever. 

“I remember really hating you.” I remember thinking him beautiful despite his darkness. “I remember it started raining on our way here.” 

“You had a hood, but you pushed it off your head to feel the rain.” I don’t remember that because indulging in the rain is instinctual to me. “You looked at the rain, and you smiled--and then you saw a woman with a child and you took off your hood and gave it to them.” 

“What does that have to d--” 

“Watching that felt like intruding on an intimate moment I had no business knowing about, but it wasn’t that to you. That moment was nothing to you because that moment was who you are.” 

I don’t understand what he sees in something I can barely remember. “Kaz, what does that have to do with anything?” 

“I’m the monster that children believe live under their beds, I’m the bastard of the Barrel, I’m someone who gets blood on everything near them.” His gaze is harsher than I’ve ever seen it as he focuses on the dried blood splotched across my hands and arms. “And then I can’t even help you wash it off.” 

Those last words are the closest to broken I’ve ever heard him sound. “Kaz--”

“And you’re the girl who looks at the rain like it’s a gift from the Saints.” 

Is he implying what I think he’s implying? Even if I believed him such a source of evil, even if I felt like touch mattered that much--why would he care? I keep the much more frightening implication at bay as I exhale. Clarity will only make this conversation worse. “That doesn’t matter.” The words leave me in a low whisper. 

I stare at the ground until his silence is something I can no longer bear. Looking up as cautiously as possible, I take in his expression. I’ve never seen him look so--so enraged. “It doesn’t matter?!” He doesn’t bother hiding the fact that he’s practically seething. “I’ve viewed your presence here as temporary since you first came and despite that, when I saw you there…” The breath he lets out is practically pained. “When I saw what your life is meant to be--I didn’t want you to go.” 

The admission breaks something hard in my chest. “I never wanted to go.” My eyeline drops to the ground. “I didn’t want to go when you were trying to make me, I didn’t want to go when it was only for that evening.” I swallow a lump of emotion restricting my throat. “When you were bleeding out and Jesper had to carry you back here I let myself imagine what it’d be like if you died. And it hurt. It hurt so badly I asked myself if I would rather never know you than feel that pain.” 

“Would you?” His voice has gone hollow. 

I finally look up again. “No.” That word leaves me more bare than any physical touch ever could. 

“I stain everything that stays with me,” his voice has seamlessly shifted back to a tone meant for business, “Me wanting you to stay is more than enough reason for you to leave.”

My chest aches as emotions I’ll never be able to place a name to pound against my chest. “I’m a princess that ran away from her family and tried to befriend her kidnapper--you can’t possibly be narcissistic enough to believe that you’re what’s corrupted me.” 

“Y/n,” his voice is gravely again, the way it was when he first woke up. 

“No. What could you possibly think I’d say to that?” He’s insane--I’m not even sure I understand what he’s implying. “You know I’ll never agree with what you’re saying, so I have no idea what kind of reaction you’re looking for.”

“Maybe a genuine one.” 

The comment is so frustrating I can’t help but roll my eyes. The irony of Kaz Brekker asking for a genuine reaction to an emotionally heavy comment is almost laughable. “My genuine reaction is that you’re acting like an idiot because I don’t agree with anything you’re saying, but calling someone an idiot after they’ve been stabbed in the chest is a little insensitive so I can’t give you my genuine reaction.”

Kaz half-scoffs, “You don’t agree? Y/n--are you hearing me!? I want--I want you to stay.” Even angry, the admission warms me. He lets out a frustrated sigh. “More than that I want--” 

“What?” 

He shakes his head once. “I want something that can never be because I can’t give what needs to be given to get it.” 

“Kaz, if it involves me staying you don’t need to give anything for that because I don’t want to go.” 

“I-want-you-to-stay-with-me.” The admission is pried from him by some invisible force. He speaks so fiercely the sentence comes out as one angry word. 

He speaks so quickly a part of me is convinced that I misheard him. I watch him as he moves back to the bed, sitting down in a way so resigned I wonder if I blurted something out on instinct. 

“Kaz,” this is embarrassing, “I wanted to stay with you even when I wanted to hate you.”

I take in his measured expression, the only thing implying any kind of reaction is the way his eyebrows draw together. “Don’t say that, you don’t understand what that means.” 

“Why? Because you’re convinced you’ll ruin me?” 

“Y/n, we’d be together with a wall between us, keeping us from ever touching.” 

“I will tolerate any amount of damage you’re so convinced staying with you will bring, I will stay with you and never touch you and think nothing of it--but I will not stay with you just to stand in front of a wall.” I let out a tired breath. “I will stay with you but my one condition will be that you have to let me know you.” 

Kaz’s intense gaze wavers. “The first thing you’ll know is that me allowing you to stay is a testament to my greed.” 

I give him a sharp look, “It’s not greed if I want to be here.” 

He half sighs, leaning against a pillow as he turns to look out the window. “It’s raining,” he muses, “The Saints must have done that for you.” 

The sentiment is so soft my heart feels like it’s constricting. “I thought you didn’t believe in the Saints.” 

“If they exist, they do so for people like you.” 

I push past the emotion in my chest as I move to sit in the same chair I was in earlier. “I was honest when I said I didn’t pray for you.” I scratch the back of my arm, a coldness passing over me. “I didn’t pray because I knew you would be okay because you had to be.” 

“They wouldn’t have saved me,” he mumbles, “Or maybe they would have for you.” 

I shake my head once, staring at the rain with more fascination than before. 

--

General Taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper @grishaverse7 @lonelystarship

#kaz brekker #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker imagine #six of crows #six of crows x reader #six of crows x you #six of crows imagine #six of crows netflix #six of crows show #soc #soc imagine #shadow and bone #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone show #grishaverse #grisha #grishavers x reader #grishaverse imagine

[writingonsaturn]

Better Unsaid

a/n okay this has been all over the place!! it was originally going to be a blurb and darker and closer to smutty (so keep your eyes out for that??? lol), but then I made it softer and the concept got away from me and it got soooo much longer than expected lmao and i still dont love where it ended so maybe part 2?? i have the idea i just dont know lol 

summary: Reader is a princess and Anakin has been her guard during the most public season for the past two years (not the most logical thing but just go with it lol, it gets explained better in the fic) and after a near death experience the two are conveniently forced into a....

ONE BED TROPE ONE BED TROPE *cough cough* ONE BED TROPE WITH ONE PERSON HAVING TO WAKE UP THE OTHER BC THEYRE HAVING A NIGHTMARE,, :)))))))

  --

His smugness is the only thing about him I can consider ‘ugly’. And because I am so desperate to not have feeling for Anakin, the Jedi who has been assigned to protect me through coronation season (which lasts for most of winter), for the last two coronation seasons, I hold onto my distaste for that side of him. Which is why I suppress my laugh as he waits for my reaction with that confident smile. 

“Come on, that was funny.” 

Rolling my eyes, I let myself sit on my bed. I can’t tell if he’s actually funny or if my evening has been so boring that his sense of humor has started to become appealing to me due to comparison. In short, the suitor I was forced to spend an entire evening with lacked personality so much I’m starting to find Anakin funny.

“You’re much more entertaining than this evening’s suitor.” 

Anakin’s expression shifts slightly, his assured grin dropping slightly. “Another miss?” 

“You have no idea.” I relax slightly, taking a moment to be glad that I completed my father’s request and now I can just enjoy the time I have with Anakin. “I know my father’s desperate to make sure my marriage is useful for our people and that he worries about this selection process because he always thought my mother would be here to help, but sometimes I wish he wouldn’t rush it so much. It feels like all he wants me for is to marry me off in exchange of finance or weaponry or something diplomatic.” 

“You’re more than that.” His response is so soft I think I might have missed it if I needed it less. I curse myself for feeling so validated by him. His words shouldn’t mean anything to me. After all, he could easily just be saying that because agreeing with my father will just make me more unpleasant to be around. 

I smile politely while avoiding his eyes. I keep my hands on either side of me, fighting the urge to fidget. “Thank you, Anakin.” My words sound weak in my own ears, so I’m sure he notices my shift in mood. “I’m tired today, I think I’m going to go to bed early.” Normally, I’d be able to shrug off these kinds of things, but the beginning of Coronation Season makes me irritable. The anniversary of my mother’s death hits me harder each year. 

“Y/n.” My name comes out so velvety I can’t find it in myself to interrupt him. “You are more than someone meant to be used as some kind of royal currency, and I mean that as more than just a...friend.” 

I let his last word linger. We’ve tried so many titles that never seem to fit right. He’s the chosen one, one of the most powerful Jedi to exist, and the Jedi assigned to protect me each Coronation Season because that’s when my mother was assassinated. He’s my guard, but we’ve spent too many nights laughing together and talking about everything and anything. And I guess now he’s my friend, even though sometimes when he looks at me in a certain way or sits too close to me or reaches for my hand to guide me somewhere I can’t breathe right. 

“Anakin, you know I love when you’re here, even though sometimes you drive me insane. And I appreciate your kindness, but your words can’t change the truth. That’s how my father sees me and he’s not exactly wrong. I’m not a son, I haven’t been raised to lead an army or lead much, and--” 

“I’ve seen you in meeting after meeting, convention after convention. I’ve witnessed the way you handle real problems and I know how you care about your people. You’d make a great leader, you don’t need a husband to be valuable.” 

My chest swells, feelings I never let myself think about mixing with thoughts of Anakin that I’ve spent so long trying to avoid. “That settles it, you’re my favorite person.” 

He grins, the look warm enough to melt the odd lump in my throat. I fight down a smile as he steps forward. “And I wasn’t before?” 

“I take it back--your head’s big enough without the additional praise.” 

Rolling my eyes, I lean back slightly in order to recreate the distance he so easily destroyed. “And I thought you had finally warmed up to me, princess.” 

The use of my title makes me skeptical. The last time Anakin used it was when he was trying to ease me so that I’d walk around the palace garden so he had an excuse to do the same. It was beyond late and I was half asleep, but he had os much energy he was desperate and just needed to do one more thing. I felt bad that his schedule revolved so heavily around mine (and when he softens his eyes and says please, I’m left incapable of saying the word ‘no’) so I agreed. 

“What do you want?” 

Anakin dramatically clutches a hand over his heart. He throws his head back slightly as if he’s just taken a fatal blow. “When did you turn so cynical? I’ve been back for three days and I’m starting to believe you’re a different person now.” 

Yeah...he’s definitely getting ready to ask for something that’s more trouble than it’s worth. Then again, everything with him seems to be worth it in some capacity. Even if it’s just that one smile he gets when he’s truly content and doesn’t think anyone’s looking. 

“Mhm,” I mumble, still fighting a grin, “so you’re not going to ask me anything?” 

His lips part slightly as he exhales. I watch the way his eyes narrow at my victorious expression. “I don’t have anything to ask of you, but I do have a small request. A request so small you won’t have to do anything but say yes.”

Suspicious. Too easy. “You’re unbelievable.” 

“You just said I was your favorite person. Remember that.” 

I’m too tired for his coyness. I’d rather him make his ridiculous request now so that I can be in bed within the hour. Though I can’t pretend I don’t normally feel better after letting him drag me along on whatever ‘adventure’ he just needed to complete while also not letting me out of his sight. I used to tell him that I wouldn’t tell anyone if I wasn’t under supervision for an hour or two a day, but he dismissed the idea immediately. That’s been the cornerstone of everything. 

“What is it?” 

He sighs once, tilting his head slightly. The way his eyes soften tells me he’s already won at least half the battle. “They still haven’t caught the attempted--” Anakin pauses, something behind his eyes darkening. I know what he’s remembering. Last night, an assassin had gotten closer than they ever had. I had almost been shot in the garden, Anakin had barely pushed me to the ground in time. A fact he’s been beating himself up for since, especially considering that no one has been able to find my attempted killer yet. “They were so close to you. They were within palace limits and they disappeared like they never existed. Who’s to say they don’t work here and are waiting for the next moment you’re exposed? Who’s to say they aren’t here tonight, waiting for me to retire for the night?” 

I didn’t realize how my near death experience had been so personal to him. He, like everyone else, was beyond frantic after it happened. But my father put an end to verbal worry before it could truly begin. He said the best thing we could do was act like everything was fine as the assailant was searched for. Anakin hadn’t been particularly cheery after my father instructed the guards to focus their search on known enemies instead of prioritizing venting the staff closest to me. I comforted him as best as I could, but he didn’t feel like speaking about it and I had to worry about the suitor meeting my father wouldn’t let me cancel. 

“Anakin, you’re right next door to me.” I have to fight the urge to reach for him. “I was fine because of you, and I will be fine because of you.” 

He sighs once, his expression not easing. “And if the person is silent? The attacker could easily work in the palace, but no one wanted to direct the search inwards.” His words are more strained than I’ve ever heard them be. “I think it’d be smart for me to stay in here. I know you’ve refused having a guard stay in your room or outside your door, but...” Anakin sighs. “Your safety would be more assured.” 

Him staying in my room? The only line I’ve ever been allowed to draw, and I’m actually considering letting that go. If he seemed even slightly less sad, I wouldn’t even consider it. It’s not a good idea. I’m already too attached to him. “Anakin--” 

“I’d feel more assured.” 

Damn him. Stupid, extremely sweet Anakin who makes saying no to him impossible. I stretch my arm forward, letting my hand squeezes his forearm gently. “There’s no reason to not feel assured.” He doesn’t ease, the cloudiness behind his eyes remains stubborn. “You’re still worried.” No reaction, the haze that’s taken him isn’t letting go. “Fine--but tell no one or my father is going to take to posting guards at my door every night.” 

...I guess there are worse ways to spend a night. Which is kind of a problem since I’m trying to...enjoy Anakin less. Ugh, I even sound dumb in my head. “I promise, princess.” 

Ugh, he’s adorable. “You’re intolerable.” I stand from he foot of my bed and pull back the covers on my bed. He doesn’t reply, something dark still playing for him. I watch him move to face the door. Wait--is he doing what I think he’s doing? “No, you’re not going to stand there all night. You need sleep.” He has the audacity to give me an annoyed look. “I already didn’t want to do this so now you have to listen to my conditions.” 

He raises an eyebrow, his lips pressing together oddly. He’s trying to gauge something from my expression, perhaps he’s looking for buttons to press to get his way. I guess I look as stubborn as I feel because instead of arguing he just sits on the floor. What? I watch him cautiously, trying to figure out if this is some weird argument trick. 

“What are you doing?” 

“What you asked.”

And just like that I’ve put myself in a position that I will no doubt regret terribly the second common sense returns to me. There’s no way to deny that Anakin and I are closer than we probably should be. We’ve felt like friends first since the day we first met. I can’t think of any reason to not offer to let him sleep in my bed except those stupid budding feelings I refuse to label. 

It’s not like I actually like him. I can’t--I’m going to be married to some nobleman and he’s prohibited from ever forming attachments. I’m not even sure if we’re allowed to be friends. Having actual feelings for him would be so, so pointless. It would just lead to heartache and the ruining of the one genuine relationship I have. I’m just a tiny bit confused right now because he’s objectively really attractive and he’s always there for me. Always there to make a joke after a particularly rough meeting. Always there to offer me a supportive smile. Always there to humble me when I teeter on acting like my father. 

Anyone’s heart would flutter at that, so it doesn’t mean anything. And if it does, I need to squash any budding feelings now before I mess things up. Which is why I should keep him at arm’s length until I get it together. But is that fair to him? And what if doing that is making things worse? What if it’s just reinforcing the idea of having feelings? 

This is ridiculous. I’m going to get over this if it kills me. It’s just a bed and it’s only sleeping. I’m meant to be able to lead an entire union and I can’t sleep next to someone and act normal?” “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.” 

The second the words leave my mouth I regret it all. What’s wrong with me? Did I seriously think I’d be okay?

I hear his soft exhale, “I’ll be fine. I’ve slept in worse places than on your marble floor.” 

His voice sounds so weighted I can’t help but feel bad for not noticing that he’s still bothered. Whether he’s upset about his near miss or the fact that my father didn’t take his advice, I don’t know. But something’s wrong. The easy thing to do would be to just let him sleep it off. The smart thing to do would be to leave him alone until tomorrow. 

I think of all the times that I’ve been upset and Anakin had refused to let me go to sleep angry or sad or overwhelmed. “I know, but it’s really not a big deal. It’s not like we don’t know each other. I mean, last Coronation Season you buttoned me into more gowns than my handmaid. And I owe you for saving me from one of the worst suitors I’ve ever had.” 

“I’m starting to think we need to develop some kind of signal.” 

The tiny bit of lightness that’s returned to his voice makes all of my internal struggle feel worth it. “You always seem to know.” 

“That’s because when you’re reaching your limit, that one line appears between your eyebrows.”

I didn’t realize I had such a tell. I try to remember the way that the suitor drawled on and on about how amazing he was and how he couldn’t wait for the day he had a bride to bear his children and plan (tedious) social events. My hand moves to my forehead, trying to feel the crease Anakin mentioned. Can everyone tell when I’m growing tired? Am I that transparent? 

Anakin’s slight laugh steals my attention. He’s facing me again, his elbow holding his head up on the foot of my bed. “What are you doing?” 

“I don’t--I don’t think i get a crease between my eyebrows when I’m irritated.” 

I hear him stand. I don’t realize he’s approaching me until he’s so close I could touch him without even needing. to stretch. “No, when you’re irritated you raise your eyebrows slightly, because that’s when you’re at your most sarcastic.” 

“Really?” 

The corner of his mouth tugs upwards. “Just like that.” I force myself to keep my expression blank. “When you’re reaching your limit, your eyebrows crease here.” His finger taps the space between my brows so gently I almost don’t realize what he’s doing. “And when you’re trying not to laugh--which is often, because you refuse to admit that I’m funny--you press your lips together in a way that forms a dimple here.” The knuckle of his pointer finger brushes against the bottom of my cheek. 

I bite my tongue to fight the warmth spreading across my face. “I didn’t realize i was so transparent.”

“I can’t always tell what you’re thinking.” 

“I’ll take it.” Maybe if I was less tired, I’d argue a little more. “You know you’re not that difficult to read either.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes, I can tell when you’re just being stubborn for the sake of it. I can see it in your eyes and you’re doing it right now.” 

His expression harshens slightly before softening. “Y/n--” 

“I’m not wrong.” 

He sighs once, stepping back. I watch him pace around my bed before taking a seat on the edge of my other side of the bed. “Are you happy now?” 

“Happy that I won? Absolutely.” 

Anakin halfheartedly glares at me. “Careful, add a crown and a robe that trails down a throne and I’d feel like I was speaking to your father.” 

“Careful, another side comment like that and I’ll ‘accidentally’ kick you off the bed in the middle of the night.” 

“Not if I kick you off the bed first.” 

I trace a thoughtless pattern on the fabric of my bedsheets. “What are you? Twelve?” 

“I’m older than you.” 

“Barely.” I continue the thoughtless pattern tracing as I fight the sleep from my eyes. “Your comebacks are usually more creative than that.” 

He exhales, relaxing slightly as he rests his back against a pillow. “I’m tired, like you claimed to be.” His eyes flutter slightly, a bit of his exhaustion showing. “Go to sleep.” 

I should. I’m too old to think I can put off a tomorrow I don’t want by just staying up. This is stupid. I’m too old to think I can put off the anniversary of my mother’s death by going to bed. She had been taken from us on castle grounds, killed by a revolutionist who viewed my mother as a class traitor. I still remember the way she slumped to the ground, her blood staining the snow beneath her. I remember the way the guards were so busy chasing her killer no one thought to keep me away from the body. 

“Y/n?” 

I scratch the back of my arm in hopes of banishing my thoughts. “Yes?” 

“You’re being quiet.” 

“You said to go to sleep, that tends to be a quiet thing.” 

I can feel his eyes on me. “Since when do you listen to me?” Not trusting myself to actually reply, I only offer him a hum of acknowledgement. “I know you’re not half asleep.” 

Folding my hands on my lap, I avoid his gaze. “It’s tomorrow.” 

I don’t know why I trust him to understand my vague response, but I do. His silence stretches over us like a thin blanket on a cold night. Maybe he doesn’t understand what I’m implying. I can always correct him tomorrow, when my eyelids are no longer as heavy as my heart. The more seconds that pass in total silence, the more I think that maybe he’s fallen asleep. 

I wouldn’t be surprised, Anakin has seemed tired recently, like some additional weight he won’t share with anyone has been thrust onto his shoulders. A small part of me rolls in guilt. I need to be a better friend, just because I’m suddenly a little too aware of him doesn’t mean I can shrug him off and ignore him. 

My hand almost flinches away from the feeling of something surprisingly warm touching my pinky. When I realize that it’s just Anakin and that the contact was probably accidental, I force myself to ease. It’s not like we’ve never touched before, I don’t understand why I’m making it weird. Sitting in my bed in the dark doesn’t change anything. His hand turns slightly, pressing into mine a little more assuredly. Biting my tongue, I turn my hand slightly, exposing my palm. And just like that, our fingers intertwine. 

“She would have been proud of you.” His voice comes out so low I barely register the words. 

The words shouldn’t mean much to me--he never knew my mother and has no way to know what she wanted me to be.--and yet I find comfort in them. I smile, turning my head towards him. “You didn’t even know her.” 

He rolls his eyes slightly, relaxing further before squeezing my hand once. “Who wouldn’t be proud of you? You’re kind and smart and decent to be around when you’re not telling me what to do.” 

My heart swells in my chest so much I’m surprised it doesn’t burst. Could he be cuter? “Yeah...now I’m sure you’re my favorite person.” 

“Now you’re sure?” 

The smugness in his voice has me rolling my eyes. “Don’t make me regret saying that.” 

“Maybe in the morning,” he says easily, “now go to sleep. There’s nothing worse than escorting you from meeting to meeting while you’re tired.” 

“I’m not that bad.” Even in this darkness, I can make out the way he raises an eyebrow. “Shut up--I’m going to sleep, but not because of you.” 

He lets out a slight huff. “You’re impossible.” 

The desire to respond to his comment is not enough for me to win the fight against the weight of my eyelids. The moment my eyes shut, I feel powerless to anything that isn’t sleep. I let myself fall into a weightless sleep, my only tether being the Anakin’s fingers around mine. 

--

A distant noise yanks me from my sleep. I’m too drowsy to do anything but register the sound. I hear another similar...whine? cry? I can’t tell and I’m too asleep to figure it out. I almost fall asleep again, but a third distressed sound keeps me from it. I wipe my eyes lazily with the back of my hand as I try to sit up. 

Squinting, I make out a figure on my bed. It takes me a moment to remember Anakin and how I fell asleep. Our hands are still together and no light is peering through my window so it can’t be that long since I fell asleep. Another disgruntled sound carries itself throughout the room. I shift slightly, leaning over Anakin cautiously. 

Golden brown curls are beginning to stick to his forehead and his eyebrows are drawn together sharply. He’s having a nightmare.  I shift even further forward before cautiously placing a hand on his shoulder before squeezing him gently. 

“Anakin,” I whisper, “it’s not--it’s not real.” His eyebrows draw together even more harshly. I shake him a little more stubbornly. “Anakin, wake up--you’re having a ni--”

 My forearm is grabbed so suddenly I barely register it before I feel my back shoved into my mattress. I blink twice. His dark eyes are frantic and the look on his face is far from the gentle, easygoing expression I’m used to. He’s breathing deeply, his chest rising and falling from above me. I swallow a slight panic and something I don’t understand as I try to keep my eyes on his face and my thoughts away from how close he is. Anakin pries his fingers from my forearm one by one until only his palm is touching me. 

“Y/n, I--” 

“It’s okay.” Honestly, I’m more worried about his uneven breathing than the way he grabbed me. I can’t imagine everything he’s been through or how justified his nightmares are. Anakin moves his hand away from me. I don’t sit up until he’s off of me and sitting with his back against my headboard. “It’s okay--I just--you were having a nightmare and I thought I should wake you.” He doesn’t react. I turn my body further, keeping my back straight. Anakin doesn’t move, and the longer he stays still, the more I feel like I should say something else. “Do you want talk about it? Or do--do you want to talk about something else? Or go to sleep? Or get some water? Or--” The far off look behind his eyes silences me. I scoot forward slightly. “You’re okay, Anakin, I promise.” 

His head turns at that, his eyes searching mine for something I don’t understand. “I thought...” He cuts himself off by swallowing once. 

I shift a little more, trying to find anything normal in his expression. “Thought what?” 

Anakin’s hand is on my arm so quickly I don’t even register his movement. I let his fingers press into my skin. He’s holding onto me like I’m a figment of a dream and he’s beginning to wake up. “I thought I’d failed.” He exhales, the sound heavy. “Failed you and that you’d--I  thought I had lost you.” 

A lump rises in my throat, thick and unmoving. Cautiously, I place my hand over the one still gripping my shoulder like a lifeline. “You didn’t. Nothing happened, it was just a dream.” 

His gaze falls to the ground before he repeats the last of my words. “Just a dream.” There’s a hollowness to his voice I don’t understand. 

I exhale, carefully running my thumb over his knuckles. “Yes.” He doesn’t say anything but his expression hardens again. I let us sit there like that for a long minute. “I promise.” 

“You can’t promise things like that.”

I sigh, unsure of where to go from here. “Bad dreams are only bad dreams.” He doesn’t reply. “I think you should try to get some more sleep.” 

Anakin is unresponsive. I shift back, but before I can transition from almost being on top of him to just sitting next to him, he pulls on my arm to keep in place. “I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you.” 

“Nothing’s going to happen to me.” 

“You almost died today, y/n. I was right there and if I had been a second later--” 

“But you weren’t.” He doesn’t ease. “You were there and I was fine. Don’t torment yourself over what could have been. You’ll drive yourself crazy.” 

“If anything ever happened to y--” 

“It’s not going to,” I whisper, ignoring the way his hold on my arm tightens even further, “Especially this time a year when I have a pretty good gau--” 

He tilts his head slightly, eyebrows drawing together and a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Pretty good? Really?” 

“Someone needs to watch your ego, chosen one.” This time when he tries for a smile, the look has some strength behind it. Relief pools in my stomach. “Now get some sleep, tomorrow’s a busy day and when you’re sleepy you’re beyond irritable.”  

Anakin lets me pull away enough to lay down, but he doesn’t follow. Not for a long second. When he does, his movements are impossibly rigid. I watch him out of the corner of my eye as carefully as I can manage. 

“Y/n?” 

I regret turning my head immediately. I didn’t realize how close he was. It would take no effort from me to make our lips meet. Wait--why am I thinking of that? I’m not allowed to think of stuff like that...especially not about him. 

“Yes?”

He lets out a breath before moving his hand. I don’t understand his hesitation until I feel his hand cupping my cheek gently. “What if next time I’m not enough? What if next time I lose you because I’m not strong enough?” 

I never thought my death would be such a personal thing to him. Sure, I knew that we had some kind of bond, some kind of friendship, and that my death would bring sadness. But I never imagined I’d matter enough to him that thoughts of my death would be frightening enough to slip into his subconscious and become a thing of nightmares. 

“You are enough. Nothing is going to happen to me and if it does it’s not going to be because of you.” Anakin’s lips press together in a way that implies serious uncertainty. His thumb brushes across my cheek so unexpectedly I almost ask him what he’s doing. The intensity behind his eyes is enough to burn me. “Was your dream really that bad?” 

He lets out an uncertain breath as his eyebrows draw together. I don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. “It’s more than the dream. I...y/n, princess,” he tacts on, a hint of humor returning to him, “you’re more than a mission to me.” 

The admission is so soft I can’t help but smile. “I know, Anakin, we’re--” 

“You’re more than a friend to me.” I don’t know if my blood freezes in my veins or if my lungs don’t contract when they should or if my heart literally skips a beat, but I know something in me completely stops at his words. “I--” 

“Don’t say it.” I don’t know how I managed to cut him off so sharply and I’m a little disappointed when I do, but it’s the right thing to do. Thought of the code that’s so important to him have clouded half the immense shock and joy swelling in my chest. “What you’re trying to say...I um, I want to say the same.” I try to drop my gaze but he tilts my head up slightly with his hand. “But we shouldn’t, you know that.” 

"You want to us to pretend that nothing’s different? You want me to escort you from meetings with one suitor to the next every Coronation Season until you’re married off?” 

“No, I’m not saying that. The point is that I’m not saying anything.” His eyebrows draw together in uncertainty. “Isn’t it enough for now, for both of us to just know? If we say it...that could mean bad things for you. And I don’t want to be a bad thing for you.” 

“You could never be.”

It’d be so easy to believe him. To believe him and to let him say what I never imagined I’d be able to hear and damn the consequences of tomorrow. “Can we just refrain from verbally saying anything until you’re sure?” 

“I’m sure right now. I’ve been sure since the first time we ever walked in the garden together. The night after the first Coronation Ball I escorted you to.” 

I remember that night well. The way he hadn’t scolded me for needing air or taking off my uncomfortably high heels to walk in the grass. “If you mean it, you won’t say it yet. I refuse to get in the way of what you’re meant for.”

His thumb runs my cheek entirely, stopping at the corner of my mouth. “Are you capable of not disagreeing with me?” 

Rolling my eyes slightly, I place my hand over his. “Probably not.” 

Anakin exhales, his playful irritation clear in the sound. “You’re impossible when you’re tired.” 

“I am not tired.” 

“I can see the sleep in your eyes.” 

“I can see it in yours too.” 

He pauses, eyebrows drawn together cautiously. “I’ll go to sleep if you do.”

He must be more tired than I thought if he’s compromising with me so quickly. “Deal.” 

Neither of us close our eyes for a long second, we just watch each other with wide eyes. It still doesn’t feel like he’s eased, but he’s come back to me so much more than he was earlier. I’ll make sure to check how he’s feeling in the morning. The first morning after we’ve...I don’t know. 

I’m trying really hard not to get excited because anything that’s been not said could be taken back so easily. That’s the point--but it’s hard not to let my heart get ahead of my rationality. I’ll just take the good for what it is for now and tomorrow we can figure out the rest. Even though he’s not allowed to form attachments and my father really wants to marry me off to foreign royalty.

Tomorrow. This can begin to be solved tomorrow. My eyes shut and I let myself roll fully onto my back. The second I’m comfortably settled, I feel Anakin shift against the bed. I’m too tired to open my eyes until I feel a weight placed against my chest. 

I open my eyes on instinct, less surprised than I should be when I see Anakin’s head resting against my chest. Before I can speak, I feel his arm rest against my side. “Anakin,” I breathe, my hand moving to smooth his hair out of his face the way I’ve wanted to for so long. “What did we just talk about?” 

“You said not to say anything,” he mumbles comfortably, “I’m not saying anything.” ...It is kind of the ideal compromise. Especially since I’m too tired to find reason and he feels so warm. “I can feel you overthinking. Go back to smoothing my hair before I have to rise and stand at your door so that your handmaid comes to wake you. Something tells me she’d be glad for the excuse to get rid of me.” 

That might be the most dramatic thing I’ve ever heard him say. Selma is the most patient woman in the palace. “Selma would never report anything involving me, I can’t believe you don’t like her. She’s the sweetest woman I’ve ever met.”  

“She’s the one that doesn’t like me,” he says, “she always watches me like she’s trying to figure out if I’m planning on stealing you away.” 

Too tired to fight my smile, I go back to smoothing his hair out with my fingers. After a moment, he lets out an exhale that relaxes his entire body. “Goodnight, princess.” 

“Goodnight.” The word is barely a mumble as I feel sleep tug against me for the second time tonight. 

It’s strange, but my excitement doesn’t diminish my tiredness, it just makes the prospect of rest feel so much fuller. Safer. Because there’s so much to sort out and grieve but it’s okay, because we have the time and everything feels okay because Anakin is here, right beneath my fingertips. 

#anakin skywalker #anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin x reader #anakin x you #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x y/n #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars fic

[cinnamonest]

Rewriting my Diluc housewife thoughts but I saved it in my notes this time, but I made it infinitely more sexist than it already was before bc 1) I was in the kink mood and 2) the spirits of writing gods possessed my body and told me that is the way all Diluc content should be, so, this is major 1950s-ish housewifey horrendously misogynistic shit, you've been warned. Like, even *I* looked back over this and was like "wow this is vile" which is kinda saying something for me so, putting the nastier parts under cut for the sake of my followers' eyes ----------- I was thinking about the post a while back about Diluc reforming a criminal darling - a thief around Mondstadt that's been on a crime spree and of course he catches wind of that and goes to defeat the perpetrator (surprisingly very easy? How is a thief this weak?) and haul the bastard off to jail except... What's this? Said criminal is actually just some girl and not a gross ugly bastard?? This changes things. Clearly, this was not an intentional act of malice or greed, but rather, he, master of criminal psychology™, rationalizes that the world is far too cruel for unwifed girls that have no one to depend on, a cold terrible place, so you must have been driven to these actions out of desperation. You had no provider, no caretaker, which are needs. How could you possibly be expected to provide a means of living for yourself?? This is just the consequences of the unfairness of the world. However, things all work out in the end. You need to be taken care of and restrained from these self-destructive choices by force (since you cannot recognize how bad it is, not that you're expected to, it's natural that you have poor perception, that's why you need a man to make choices for you), and he needs a wife. This solution benefits all parties.

He is, however, a rather dense man, and doesn't really think to like, tell you that. Or tell you anything. He's too lost in thought in his planning -- gonna get you new clothes to replace your ragged ones, gonna have to rearrange the guard schedule so they can watch the house better, all that -- and just kinda slings you up and over his shoulder without a word. Ignores you kicking and hitting because it doesn't really hurt or anything, you're too weak for that. Just says he’ll explain in detail later, but don’t worry, you’re not going to jail. He’s just taking you home. This is better, he says. Stop struggling so much, what, you want to go to jail? No? Then be still. And you don't recognize that it's good for you yet, but again, that's expected. In a better time or society, you would have been married off sooner, and prevented from ever falling victim to your own decision making to begin with, but the world isn't perfect and you can be forgiven for it. You're not responsible for your own actions since you can't comprehend them. It's frustrating and he sighs a bit over it, but that's just the way things are. You'll be happy in the long run, even if it takes a while, you're naturally programmed for a better lifestyle he has in mind. And, really, he's glad you weren't married off, because if you were then he never would have had you, so even though it was technically unideal, the stars align and the universe works out things perfectly. It's all the more of a sign that this was fate and you were made for him. The issue is that a hardened criminal darling is... Not the ideal candidate for a housewife. To some extent, he's right that the criminal underworld hardens a person, you can't survive in that realm if you're submissive or weak willed. And criminal darling certainly is not. Loud mouthed, opinionated, argumentative, bad attitude, defiant and aggressive and very much unafraid. A complete loose cannon. All very unfavorable traits. Worst of all, very much unaccepting of and ungrateful for the privilege of a second chance and being graciously granted the opportunity for a better life. Lots of bad behaviors.

The cursing is a problem. It's not very... Wife-like. Gives off a bad image, you know. Especially since said cursing is usually directed at him at a very loud volume with a snarl and getting all up in his face to tell him he's fucking insane and a bastard. To be honest, the worst part isn't the words themselves, it's the fact that you are so unafraid to be defiant and so fiery that is the primary issue. You disobey very deliberately. Little acts of pettiness. Being mean to the maids who are so graciously trying to teach you how to cook (at his direction), since you had no idea how to (and nearly burned his house down as a result). The first time you were mean and bitter and that's how you learned they report back to him about how you behaved. It did not go over well.  

Intentionally burning food. Once you somehow found a bottle in a cabinet somewhere in the mansion and put rat poison in his food, made him sick. Muttering a sarcastic whoops and shoving a vase off to crash and shatter on the floor. Early on you refused to wear all the nice dresses you were generously given and even tried to go through his clothes to find something to wear, which was kinda cute since it was way too big, but still. You mutter and grumble under your breath every time you're given a command. The most important thing is sex, though. You know, your job. One of your only real responsibilities. He has a very stressful job. It's only reasonable that he can expect to come home to his sweet, loving little wife with open arms and equally open legs. You've probably fucked around a bit right? For money, for favors, for intel, you get the idea, lots of ties to criminal gangs to earn their trust. So, if you do it for something so insignificant, how much more does he deserve it for taking care of you fully? You should -- and you will, with time -- drop to your knees the second he walks through the door. But instead, sigh, you fight and whimper and cover your face in shame after you spasm and cum, and worst of all, you actively try not to cum. You shouldn't feel ashamed of that, it's good, he says. Sure, you may not be officially married (since the laws of Mondstadt unfortunately require that whole "consent" thing for both parties, ugh), but, he's basically your husband right? So, it's perfectly normal, you're supposed to cum for him. Maybe once you're all knocked up you'll be even hornier, and less shameful. He actually wasn't expecting you to be this bad. Incredibly stubborn and prideful. Literally the exact opposite traits of a good wife, you know, submissive and humble and obedient. He kinda thought that it was like... automatic. That once he just kinda shoved you in the right environment, it would be like flipping a switch right? Apparently not. But no matter. It can be changed, with effort and time. You're worth it. See, you're not supposed to backtalk him, you're supposed to smile and do what you're told without question. You're supposed to submit and obey, and instead you seem hellbent on pissing him off out of spite - and frankly, you're doing a good job of achieving that. Every time you defy him it sparks an irritation he can't describe, worse than he'd normally get from just being snarled at by anyone - no, something about being disrespected by someone he feels is beneath him makes him much, much angrier than it would be if it were, say, one of the business partners who get snappy and argumentative very frequently. He could break you and it would be easy, don't you know that? You stomp and you hit him and you yell, but clearly you process that you have to look up to look him in the eye, you have to realize how much smaller you are. You hit him even though you have to know by now he'll just grab your wrists, and like always you'll be unable to even hope of pulling out of his grip, the strength difference between you two is so great. There's no way you don't realize all that, yet you continue to behave the way you do. The inferiority is so blatantly obvious, but you act as if it's not. He spends a lot of time contemplating the source of this, the cause of your behavior, it occupies his thoughts. It's like... You resent him for something. Could it possibly be kidnapping you and keeping you as a glorified sex slave? No, no, that's not it. It's something else, yes. Are you just bitter about being inferior in, you know, every conceivable way? Is that it? The criminality for you was compensation to make you feel powerful, perhaps. You have a complex. You resent him not for anything he's done, but because you know he's stronger and smarter and generally superior to you. You don't want to accept it. You're prideful when you shouldn't be. You're supposed to be humble and content with your inferiority. Yeah, that's it. You just have a negative perception of the lifestyle you're supposed to have. Maybe some event in your life or someone else warped your view of things. You don't realize how happy you'd be if you just accepted it. Yes, if you submitted to it, if you swallowed your pride and actually accepted your place, you'd find you would be very happy, you just don't know that. Or maybe, your brain can't grasp something like that. After all, that's the reason you're supposed to be the submissive party of the two of you, you're not as bright or perceptive (says the densest man alive). You have to be... Led. Guided. So he says it. He is, again, a dense man. He does not really think about the fact that perhaps blatantly confronting you with the epiphany he thinks he's had and specifically using the words inferior and weak and small is probably not going to make you very happy. You get bitchy and bratty and try to hit him and he sighs because, see, this is exactly what he's talking about. You reacting the way you did only confirms you do have a complex, he says. So, how could he go about... reconditioning? He is not the most creative man, but thankfully it's a rather easy problem to solve. If you're reminded of a reality often enough, you have to accept it. For starters, using physical strength against you. Maybe that will metaphorically open your eyes. Holds you down in place when you're hitting him like you do, firmly bending you over a counter or whatever and just holding you in place. Come on, try to get up, try to push him off. You snarl and claw at the marble and push will all your strength, but he doesn't budge, not until you politely apologize and ask him to let you up. If you're being difficult and not going where he tells you to, well, he can just sling you up over his shoulder and carry you. If you're fighting being fucked he can just flip you over and press your face into the mattress and hold you still, and you can't help but take the brutal reality that you're basically a ragdoll to him, that is, physically overpowering you doesn't even require trying. It helps to knock you down a peg, remind you of your place and maybe get you to swallow that pride a bit. The orgasms and fucking have a similar effect -- every time you can't help but feel like he has a power over you. And really, he kinda does. Every time you lay there still panting and shivering in aftershock, the shame comes swarming in, all the obscene noises you made and the way you came undone under the person that treats you like property. Even if the rational part of you knows better, you can't help but feel like in a way it's like you let him win, allowed yourself to more or less prove him right. Maybe you'll learn better if you're in more humiliating positions. Stuck getting rammed from behind, hand forcing your face down and ass up. Actually correcting bad behaviors requires more direct approaches, so he takes the... Old fashioned route. After all, it's pretty much guaranteed to work. You don't listen to words, you don't listen to reason, but you'll certainly listen to handprints and belt welts on your ass. It's the first time you really, truly break, and that brings him a lot of satisfaction. The first time you really cry and whimper and beg and apologize so profusely it feels like you mean it for once. Granted, for a while you just persist in your bad behaviors and even try to run when you see him sigh and take the belt off, but you never get far. And, most notably, you actually fix your behaviors, with enough reminders. At one point, the next time you start being bad and get to bitching and snarling and putting up a fight, you catch the look on his face and, for once, you shut your mouth and look down and mumble an apology by default. See, you're learning. Speaking of, you still have that major issue with backtalking him. You're supposed to submit to him and acknowledge his authority over you. So he gets firm. Grabs you by the jaw and forces you to look him in the eye and reminds you that you will *not* get an attitude with him. You *will* show some respect. You say yes sir and no sir and do what you're told. And if you forget, he can give you a reminder, if you want that. But you shake your head with fear in your eyes, say you don't want that. It makes you mad. You want to lash back, but you swallow your pride and mutter a fine - before realizing the mistake, violating the rule you were just reminded of. You stammer out a yes sir but it's already too late. He has to control himself too, not let his anger get the better of him. He speaks in a way that isn't snarling and mean, but rather firm, cold, a flat tone that asserts dominance and demands respect. But... still wants you to like him. So he has to be nice, too. After all, you'll learn better if you're rewarded for being good, right? So you can get little rewards. Words of affirmation. A pat to the head. He'll buy you something you want, let you drink a bit (since, as a thief, of course, you had a problem with that before you came home, but that had to be corrected too, since drunkenness isn't very befitting). And sooner or later he does have a really good little wife. He's proud of you. You smile and obey commands without complaining. He can come home every day, and rather than hearing a long report from the staff about how much trouble you caused that day, instead you have food and smiles and sweet affection waiting on him, you hug him when he walks through the door. You're polite and sweet to the various business partners and guests that come through -- you don't speak to them without permission though, of course, and you look down at the ground so you don't make eye contact with another man. People say he's lucky and how they wish they had a wife that was so outwardly affectionate to them as you are to him, always clinging to him physically. And you don't complain or every object to anything, you just smile and say yes and do it. It makes him happy in a weird way he can't quite articulate. A warm swell of pride, a feeling of success. You have vague memories of a time when you were breaking into houses just to scrape by, not knowing when you'd eat next, not knowing where you'd sleep. It's kind of a fuzzy memory now. You don't have to worry about those things anymore, and you're a lot happier this way.

#this is vile im sorry #tw: ff #tw: misogyny #.dl #yan.txt #q